Familiar
by Ryuno chu
Summary: Sequel to Every Step You Take. It's been months since Light started working alongside L, and when a new case hits a bit too close to home they will have to confront L's past in order to piece the clues together.
1. Let there be Light

_Greetings my lovely readers! I'm so glad to see you back for the sequel!  
So in this first chapter I go into specifics as to just what Light's injuries are. I've done quite a bit of research, as this isn't the last mention there will be of them. The internet, however, is fallible and some things may be incorrect or altered. If you notice that something isn't quite right, I implore you to tell me. I tried to be as accurate and consistent as possible and I want to write his injuries realistically. I've always been about that sort of thing. Any knowledge you have that I can use to improve the descriptions will be much appreciated. _

* * *

It wasn't the best of times, but it definitely wasn't the worst of times either. Seven months ago to the day, I'd lost my sight and gotten a serious case of whiplash. Thanks to my psychotic ex-classmate I'd suffered a concussion, several cerebral contusions, and a herniated disc in my neck. I suppose I should consider myself lucky, however, that I didn't suffer from a depressed skull fracture or a hematoma. Either of which would have resulted in surgery in the very least or death at the worst with not much room for error in between.

I had taken the blow to my occipital lobe, damaging its cortex. I'd been very fortunate not to go blind from that first hit with the sink pipe. Cracking my head against the ground after perforating Keiton's trachea was the final nail in the coffin though so to speak. Whatever safety net I'd managed to fall into after the first hit was obliterated by damaging the same spot on the back of my head during my fall. That second strike resulted in my "Cortical Blindness" as Dr. Maki had called it- though I later discovered that this _was_ the technical term.

Even though I had sustained serious injuries, I was assured that most people do come out of the condition with some degree of vision. However, there was a miniscule chance of it ever being perfect again.

Currently, I could classify myself as having Cortical Visual Impairment. Honestly, being able to see at all was more than a relief; I would take my eighty five percent visibility gladly.

It wasn't sudden, but my surroundings had been coming clearer over the past three weeks. When I had woken up the day my vision had stated to repair itself, it was nauseating. I only had some semblance of the light around the room. A few of the bigger moving things, like people, appeared as shadows only slightly darker than the backdrop of black I'd gotten used to. It was something like a charcoal grey this morning.

Nevertheless it was exciting and day by day it got even better. My progress finally seemed to be plateauing out though.

"Light-kun," Ryuzaki interrupted from beside me. "You're staring at the lights again."

I turned to look at him. This happened often; I couldn't help but seek out the lights in a room. It was a symptom of the visual impairment, but perhaps also a psychological desire not to return to the darkness I'd been a part of for months.

I straightened in my seat. "My apologies, I'll get back to work."

"The case has just been closed," he replied monotonously, making a line out of a pile of sugar cubes.

"At least I'm not hindering _your_ efforts to save the world," I joked.

"You just need the right incentive." He paused in making a sugar pyramid and swiveled in his chair to face me. "Now that you can see and cover your own cases, I propose a challenge. The winner will be the one who solves the most cases by the dawn of October 31st- a whole week from now." A small smile played across his lips.

"That's how you want me to start off on my own," I smirked.

"It is not as if I'm tossing you into the deep side of the pool. You've been assisting me with cases for the last six months, the only difference now is that you'll have free reign."

"So what does the winner get," I questioned.

He examined a cube before placing it on the top of the pyramid. "When has bragging rights never been enough for you?"

He was right of course and if anything, it was the only thing he could offer that I would actually want. Our relationship was built on competition. To normal people maybe this wouldn't look so healthy, but really it's only a game. I maintain that there's nothing wrong with a little light-hearted bragging.

It came to me then what a great opportunity this was! There was one more thing he could offer me…

"Maybe so," I started. "but how about for every one case that the winner solves more than the loser, the winner gets to hear a story about the other's childhood?" This was so much better than bragging rights.

At first the only way I could get him to open up was to exchange stories with him. Tit-for-tat, eye for an eye, he called it- which was fair. Then it had evolved into calling up my family during dinner to ask for embarrassing stories or pestering Watari at four in the morning with questions about his formerly dewy eyed charge.

It was how I'd heard about the first time he tried to interrogate someone or when Watari had attempted to switch him to sugar free candy. His favorite of mine involved my mother regaling the tale of when the family had taken Sayu and I to Ōkunoshima when I had been twelve. For whatever reason, the image of me being mobbed by dozens of rabbits brings him great joy.

Upon hearing my amendment, he immediately swiveled back around to face his computer. Fingers hovering over the keyboard he said, "I believe I will ask your sister for a story this time. She does come up with the most unique things to say."

"It'll have to wait, Ryuzaki, because Watari has alluded to some very interesting things that occurred one spring when you were fifteen," I teased.

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't turn to look at me. His fingers twitched closer to the keys. "Whenever you're ready, Light-kun."

With a mischievous glint in my eye, I prepared for a very sleepless week.

 _Yeah, we have a great relationship._

* * *

Despite currently residing in Canada, most of the cases we took were in America; October is a big month for violent crime there.

"I can't believe some of these people," I muttered.

"Real life is truly stranger than fiction," Ryuzaki replied, all surprise absent from his voice.

 _That's something you can say again._ I of all people knew just how strange the world could be. Shinigami that like apples, notebooks that could kill with only a name and a face- I didn't even believe it at first. All that made everything else seem entirely within the realm of possibility; even when the 'everything else' was a cult supposedly sacrificing virgins in the name of Pagan Gods.

"This almost can't be anything other than a story," I told him.

"Cases in any other month won't be nearly this interesting," he conceded, sipping from what I've counted as his eleventh cup of coffee today. At this point he was really trying to make each cup count as our competition would be ending at dawn. Nearing 7pm, it left just under thirteen hours until we would tally our solved cases.

"I don't know if I should be comforted by that. At least the high profile cases tend to have a noticeable pattern."

"How so," he inquired, maybe hoping to stall the call I was about to make.

"In this case at least, it's as if there are similar isolated incidents all over this region of the country," I began to explain. "It's nothing local cops would be able to pick up because it spans across several South Eastern towns and states. The sacrifices are too similar in MO not to be connected. I'll admit, it was a good way to not get caught; by the time the FBI picked up the pattern, the sacrifices would have stopped and the perpetrators would have gone underground." I was getting ready to wrap this up and make contact with the police departments in multiple states. Today and tomorrow night would have seen the last of the sacrifices, and possibly the largest as they would fall onto Halloween and its eve. With my aiding the case it could hopefully be stopped in time.

I almost wanted each individual incident to count as a point in my favor, but that would be pushing my luck. Widespread as it may be, it was all one case.

A shrill beeping noise erupted from the device between our work stations signaling the coming of a new hour.

"The clock is ticking down, Light-kun," he teased. "Don't you have a call to make?"

I adorned a set of headphones and readied the microphone. "I want no background noise from you."

As immature as he could be, he wouldn't detriment the case by talking whilst I was making the call. The police would be under the impression that I was L after all. It wouldn't do well to ruin the illusion.

It was evident that the police were more than ready to end this case. There were no interruptions, which was a feat in and of itself, and thusly the call only took up twenty five minutes of my precious time. They eagerly soaked up every bit of intel I could give them and hurriedly went about wrapping this catastrophe up. My favorite cases were like this- the ones where there was no resistance. The contrary cases always made me feel like beginning every transmission with 'listen to every word I say and I will fix this'.

"Done and done," I voiced haughtily.

"That's good for you, Light-kun. I still find it cute that you continue to believe that you'll beat me." He shuffled his hand around next to him, presumably to find his own headset. I wasn't even remotely surprised when instead he pulled out a bag of mini marshmallows.

I was even less surprised when he turned in his chair to face me, stuck a hand deep into the bag, pulled out a handful and proceeded to cram them all into his mouth. It was how he taunted me, knowing that I found his eating habits to be more than disgusting.

My eyes narrowed at him. "You know, being blind wasn't all bad. At least I didn't have to watch you eat yourself into a sugar coma."

"Maybe you should focus your efforts on working instead of watching me, Light-kun."

I opened my mouth to deliver a scathing retort when the door to the adjoining hotel room opened and Watari emerged. Normally this wasn't a distractible action, as he appeared multiple times a day to deliver food, but currently he was empty handed.

"If you both would direct your attention to any major British news website," he instructed calmly.

Upon entering the site I saw that the most recent article had been posted three minutes ago, which would have made it Wednesday, October 31, 2007 at 12:31am GMT. With the speed that Watari notified us, he must have been aware of it a bit sooner.

' **Sex Ring Set Ablaze** '

"Well that's not something you see every day," I offered.

"Indeed not," came L's monotonous reply. He was L in my mind now. While he may still insist on being called Ryuzaki, I could differentiate between the two. L was all business; he didn't mess around. Ryuzaki, though still remaining composed and calculating, was… silly.

At approximately midnight, a fire was started in an establishment in the Eastern part of London. From the pictures on the website, the building looked completely toasted. At the time they had been taken, the fire hadn't even been put out yet.

"Miraculously", as so the article put it, no one had been hurt; by the fire that is. More than two dozen of the profiteers and customers had been knocked unconscious and tied up outside the establishment. Some were more roughed up than others.

The former captives were mostly young women, though there were a few children of both sexes as well; a preliminary tally counted approximately nineteen heads. They had all been across the street watching the building burn to the ground while they waited for the police.

All that could be discerned for the moment was what could be witnessed outside the establishment. The victims were yet to be identified or questioned and no one had gone to investigate the inside of the building.

"This follows a string of vigilante work that has been occurring all over England these past few months," L brought up, breaking the silence.

This was the first I had heard of such a thing. "And you didn't thing to mention this before now?" I dove into finding more information about the so called vigilante behavior.

"None of our perpetrator's previous actions have been as bold as this. I thought that it was being handled internally," he explained. "I may have misinterpreted the situation." At least he had decency to look concerned.

"What's that supposed to mean," I demanded. "And why has this of all things caught your attention? Stuff like this happens constantly all over the world, no one has died; our perp seems to be of the Batman variety." Then it hit me. "Didn't you live in England at some point?"

"I did, and to answer your question- vigilante behavior needs to be nipped in the bud. Our perpetrator shows obvious signs of escalation. I cannot abide by people thinking that they are above the law. We don't want another Kira on our hands." He then turned to Watari who was awaiting instruction. "I suppose we should make for England," he directed, solemnly.

Watari nodded his affirmative and exited the room once more.

"This is nothing like the Kira case, Ryuzaki!"

"Yet," he started, "I've already failed to bring one vigilante to justice and it can't be allowed to happen again. More is at stake than my credibility, Light-kun." He got up from his chair and started packing his laptop. "When Kira wasn't caught, it gave others the impression that they wouldn't be caught either. The minor criminals still live in fear of Kira returning, but the serial killers, the true psycho and sociopaths of the world, the ones who can't control themselves and who would murder and rape and steal are doing so at an elevated rate. When they fly under the radar, they believe themselves invincible. The longer they go without being caught, the less they have to lose."

"So you're trying to send a message," I speculated.

"I'm trying to protect what is dear to me," he responded solemnly, rising from his chair.

I took this as my cue to pack my things as well; and by things, I meant my laptop and clothing bag. It was essentially a life on the road. I could only take what was necessary and that definitely did not refer to personal affects- photos especially. There was no way I could chance them being misplaced.

At any given time I had seven outfits to my name, a pair of shoes that I'd typically be wearing, a shirt and pair of pants to sleep in, and a comb. Excluding the comb, the laptop I used was the only _personal_ thing I owned. There had been circumstances where all my clothes had to either be left behind or scrapped. Even though that had only happened twice, it was enough to understand why L only ever wore the same outfit. After having to abandon so many resting spots, it would grow tedious to constantly have to pick out an array of anything, and this way there was no personal attachment to the clothing. I found it hard to believe at first that one could _be_ attached to something so inconsequential, but even when you can count your possessions on one hand, there is an innate desire to have something that is _yours_. It's why I store the comb in my laptop's case when it's not being used. The laptops are the only things we never leave our temporary fortresses without. Everything else can be bought and/or abandoned along the way.

 _We take comfort in what is safe and familiar._ "Do you have something important in England, Ryuzaki," I probed.

He sighed. "This is 'need-to-know' information, Light-kun, and I was hoping you wouldn't need to know quite so soon."

He'd shared his 'special' contacts with me; amongst them were presidents and leaders of countries. This seemed different though. There was no air of flippancy to which he regarded this.

To give an apt comparison, I felt like the president of the United States about to be shown the big red 'nuclear war' button.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to speak again. I didn't want him to suddenly change his mind because I sounded too eager.

"The only place I've ever called home is in England," he started. "There are others there with that same regard. They are my legacy."

When he didn't elaborate further, I asked, "Your legacy?"

Watari conveniently chose this moment to emerge from his room and make his way through the suite toward the door.

Turning to follow, Ryuzaki said, "You shall see soon enough, Light-kun."

* * *

 _Happy Birthday to me… Happy birthday to me…_  
 _I finished this yesterday, but decided that today was as good a day as any to upload this new story! I hope you all like where you know it's heading. ;D_


	2. Homeward Bound

_Welcome to the second chapter! Oh, baby did this turn out to be a long one. Before I started writing I thought that I was barely going to get to 3,000 words. Little did I know it would be twice as long as that…  
Thank you all for putting this story on your Favorites and Alerts lists! And a special thank you to _wolfsblood13 _, the first reviewer! I really appreciate the feedback. Let me know what y'all want to see!_

* * *

Ryuzaki was forced to wear shoes.

Each and every time we had to enter an airport he was forced to wear shoes. My satisfaction over seeing him behave so mundanely could only be surpassed by his discomfort. If it weren't for the fact that he needed to attract as little attention as possible, I have no doubt he'd act just the way he does in private. So while relocation generally sucked, at least I had this small source of amusement.

A part of which had been seeing him walk fast.

After leaving the hotel, we'd had no time to spare. Having approximately two hours until our 9:50pm flight dictated that we keep a quick pace. Our destination being the JFK airport in New York City also meant that we not only would we had to get through security, but customs as well. There was no time for a leisurely pace in between stops and we'd only gotten to the gate with three minutes to spare.

The first thing Ryuzaki did upon taking our seats in First Class was remove his shoes with a contented sigh.

"I can hear your deductive reasoning ability increase," I teased.

"I suggest getting some sleep, Light-kun. You will most certainly need it for when we arrive." It was unlike him to not take my bait. I didn't need super deduction skills to know that he was really distracted and it was obvious now that he was thinking hard about whatever it was.

So hard, in fact, that he didn't utter another word to me until we'd arrived at the hotel in New York nearly two hours later.

"Our flight to England leaves at 7:15 and we will be leaving for the airport at 5am," he informed me, as if I didn't already know.

I was tempted to ask what was bothering him, but I'd learned from experience not to press for any information that he wasn't willing to give outright.

I tossed my bag next to one of the beds in the room. Ever since the Kira case had been 'solved' we'd slept in separate beds for the most part. Not being forced together by handcuffs gave us some much needed perspective about our relationship. Having some distance, or at least a few meters of it, allowed us to step back and take things slow. It was something we were both comfortable with, what with this being his first relationship, and the first one I'd taken seriously.

After shucking off my pants and rifling through my bag for my sleeping clothes, I chanced a look at him. He was already under the covers and facing away from me.

He was melancholic. This bout of silence wasn't the result of simply thinking too hard. There must be something in England that is very important to him.

I continued to look at his unmoving form whilst I dressed for the night.

I'd never asked anything specific about his personal life before he had met me. _Maybe he has a family there… Parents or brothers or sisters._

It was unusual for this amount of violence to happen in such a concentrated area. Perhaps he was worried about someone important getting hurt in the crossfire.

I yanked down the shirt over my head and stepped around to the other side of my bed. I was about to pull back the sheets when I reconsidered the situation.

Letting them fall from my hands, I took two steps up to the unoccupied side of Ryuzaki's bed. After gently lifting the covers I slid in behind him.

"Goodnight, Ryuzaki," I whispered, wrapping an arm around him.

He shuffled backward to get closer to me and squeezed my forearm. "Goodnight, Light-kun."

* * *

When I woke up just after 4:30 I tried to extract myself from Ryuzaki as subtly as possible. I hadn't gotten to take a shower before leaving last night and I certainly wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to do so now.

After nearly having to do a ninja roll out of bed I grabbed my entire bag and made for the bathroom. There was no point in rummaging through it out here where I could wake him up. Actually it was a miracle he was still asleep at all.

When I emerged twenty minutes later my hair was still damp so I decided to make good use of the complementary hairdryer. Only a minute after turning it on Ryuzaki came shuffling up beside me with a fresh shirt under one arm.

"Good morning," I offered politely.

He grunted in response and took a sucker out of his pocket.

I shook my head in amusement. I had long since stopped questioning his need for sugar at any and all hours of the day.

He kissed the back of my neck before popping the sucker in his mouth and entering the bathroom. Neither of us were the biggest displayers of affection, so when we did it really meant something.

I heard the toilet flush and the shower come on immediately after. He was cutting it close, but that just tended to be how he rolled.

When I finished drying my hair I took a quick inventory of my neatly packed duffel bag; everything was accounted for.

Watari entered from the door to the adjoining room carrying a suitcase of his own.

"Are you all set to leave, Light," he asked quietly.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Say, where in England are we going to exactly?" I figured this was a safe question, nothing too invasive.

"We are going to Winchester. It's approximately an hour and a half's drive from London," he explained.

"Yes, it is quite a long drive," Ryuzaki muttered, shuffling lazily out of the bathroom. His hair looked like he hadn't bothered to rub a towel through it.

"Ever hear of a towel, Ryuzaki? You're dripping everywhere," I teased.

Without hesitation he wildly shook his head, the water was all over more than just his hair now.

"Hey! Stop that! I don't want to look like I was caught in a storm." He already looked disheveled enough for the both of us.

"You will have seven hours to work out your differences when we're in the air, but now we need to leave," Watari chided. He was an absolute gem in my opinion. He would always deescalate a situation if there was any chance of us getting heated when the timing was inconvenient. He'd never outright tell us to stop, just that there was a time and place to 'work out our differences'. What I really liked though was how he could play along. He knew by now what it looked like when we teased each other or when we were about to have an actual argument. His script didn't change much, but his tone did. Like now, the water was hardly a minor annoyance and there was no risk for a fight, but we did need to get a move on.

It was early enough in the morning that time wasn't too much of a problem though. We were able to stop for muffins once we got there and didn't even have to maintain a swift pace to make it to the gate on time.

Once we were sat in our seats, Ryuzaki's shoes came off and his knees up. After I'd gotten my vision back, we'd usually alternate who got the window seat. It was something we used to argue like children about, but because we were going back to his home I felt it was only right that he should have this comfort. Even before takeoff he was staring fixedly out the window at the people working. Or maybe he was staring through them.

In the hour following takeoff he had not looked away from the window. Trying to get his attention, I asked, "It'll be dark when we get there. What's our plan?" I already had a vague idea; Watari took pride in always informing us of the course of action.

Still looking out the window he replied, "We will be picked up by a man you may call Roger and drive straight through to Winchester. Once we arrive, we'll have something to eat and figure out where we stand in this case."

Well that was wonderfully ambiguous. It looked like I would be needing a more substantial discussion to distract him. I would have to be careful though, sometimes he didn't want to be distracted, sometimes he just wanted to mull over his problems in silence. It was hard to tell if he wanted me to push him. I was good at reading micro expressions, but he could be so impassive.

I decided to try and if he got mad at me he would have six hours to calm down again.

"Ryuzaki," I started, trying to get his attention. When he didn't turn toward me I tried again. "Would you please look at me."

"What is it that you need, Light-kun." He sounded tired just speaking. This whole ordeal was wearing on him more than he would admit.

I cut right to the chase. "What is in England that you're so worried about?"

"I suppose it doesn't make any sense to keep it from you any longer," he muttered, turning to look at me. "From the age of eight I was raised in Winchester, England at a place called Wammy's House."

I tried to contain my excitement. This was as much about himself that he had ever revealed to me at one time.

"Wammy's House is not only an orphanage," he continued. "but also a training facility for especially gifted children. Its purpose is to produce the next 'L'." He looked at me with an expectant gaze.

What did he want me to say- that I was surprised that it was an orphanage? I wasn't in the least bit. There was no way that he could be 'L' and still have been raised by a proper family. This explained nearly all I had wondered about his upbringing. I didn't need any more details to know that he had, in some way, trained for this role. I was however shocked that a place like this existed; and right under the government's- no, the _world's_ nose. How could they be so discrete that no one stopped to notice that this one place was turning out an abundance of geniuses?

My amazement was quickly replaced by revulsion. Did that mean they were already picking out Ryuzaki's replacement? Did they always have another 'L' on hand in case one was to bite the dust?

His head tilted to the side and he brought his thumb nail to his mouth. "Why is it you're making that expression, Light-kun?"

I glared at him as though he should know the reason for my obvious distain. "You're not expendable," I growled.

His shoulders visibly relaxed as if he'd been expecting something worse. "Don't think of it that way," he proposed, slipping his hand into his pocket- I could only assume he had more candy in there. His hand fidgeted around until he withdrew a roll of Smarties. "Consider that we all die some time. Whether it be next week or fifty years from now, they will need a new 'L' eventually. They must always be prepared to replace me," he explained.

"How old were you when you became 'L'?"

"I was eight years old," he stated simply before cutting off my potential outburst. "I wasn't like most eight year olds and there is no chance of another one being selected that young. I was the first one, Light-kun, and my inauguration was something of an emergency.

I didn't ask him to elaborate. It wasn't important to anyhow. I wanted to ask him if he'd had a life before becoming 'L', but I think that would go over even less well than asking of his life before he met me. He'd lived at Wammy's orphanage after all. I could probably infer what came before that. For whatever reason, he had no family to speak of.

I decided to steer away from that topic. "If it's an orphanage, how do these kids even get trained?" There couldn't be a point if they would get adopted. All the training would go to waste.

"You are correct in assuming that children get adopted out of Wammy's House," he conceded, unrolling another pack of Smarties. "However, there is little chance of the top candidates being adopted. At Wammy's there is a ranking system. This ranking is also positively correlated with how… 'odd' each of the children is considered. As they go up in rank, the more idiosyncrasies they seem to have." While he explained, he grouped each of the candies by color, further proving his explanation. "The average family would simply not have the patience to tolerate the child. Those at the top are very intelligent so I don't believe they would be able to tolerate the average family either. The children are quite happy at Wammy's though. It is a stimulating environment that fosters any sort interest the child may have. Some simply don't want to leave."

So it was like a safe haven for geniuses. I could see the appeal. If it was a place that would bend to Ryuzaki's every weird desire, I could only imagine what it could do for other children.

"What are the children like," I asked him.

"There's more than I can keep track of, but the one's that show promise are quite… unique."

I cringed. He said 'unique' like it was a mercy, like he didn't want me to be so put-off about meeting these little geniuses.

The flight attendant was starting to make her rounds to hand out drinks. We were seated in the last first class row so we had some time before she was near, but to be safe I posed my next question quietly. "Just tell me straight up. What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing is 'wrong with them', Light-kun. However, you sometimes have a hard time showing me patience. How do you think you'll feel when you have to show many children, that are in many ways like me, even more patience?"

"They aren't going to be clinging to my ankles are they?" No, if they wouldn't leave us alone we wouldn't be staying there. L knew that we were there to solve a case. He wouldn't let anything hinder our doing so.

"No, but they will question why we are there. They aren't likely to let our presence slide. Which does bring up another matter," he mentioned, but went quiet when the attendant wheeled the refreshment cart next to our seats.

"What would you like to drink," she directed at both of us.

I sat up straighter. "Just a water will be fine, thank you." My English was superb, and all this time in North America helped to fade my accent some.

Ryuzaki simply looked at her and stated, "Tea." He only added 'please' as an afterthought when he saw my look of absolute indignation in response to his callousness.

It wasn't until after she had served our drinks and was a few rows away that he finally continued. "They don't know who I am."

"The kids don't know who you are? None of them?" It wasn't surprising, but I wanted to be clear.

"That is correct. They will, however, recognize Watari as the owner of the orphanage, but they do not know what he does for me. Do not be surprised when they call him by his name," he instructed monotonously, as if he hadn't just given me a huge piece of information.

My eyes widened in realization. If Watari owned the orphanage, then that must make him Mr. Wammy. A year ago he would have never revealed this information to me. And with good reason; I would have killed Watari with it. I may have even tried to kill L's successors- who are no more than children. He's really trusting that I have reformed, with no real proof on my end aside from criminals not having died suspiciously in half a year.

"So what do you say to them about your presence there? Wouldn't it seem suspicious if every time the owner of the 'L training' orphanage shows up, he's always accompanied by some mysterious young man," I questioned. If these kids were as smart as he was leading me to believe, they weren't going to settle for any old explanation.

"They already believe me to be his son," he informed me. "It's not our identities they will question, but our motives. They believe that I am to inherit the orphanage in the event of Watari's passing, so it is only natural for me to have knowledge in how thing's run. Every time we return here, the children believe it is for a reason pertaining to the orphanage and to cover this assumption usually minor changes or enhancements are made," he explained, stirring multiple sugar packets into his tea. "Not only is it a good cover, but it is distracting. What you need to worry about is when they inevitably try to extract information from you regarding these changes. They will all want any advantage in that week's ranking they can obtain. The number four spot is very coveted." His lips turned upward in satisfaction. Whether it was from the tea he was drinking or from his previous statement I didn't know.

"Why the number four spot?" If it were me I'd aim straight for the top. Fourth was just unacceptable. I was about to further question the ambitions of these children when Ryuzaki put the need to rest.

"There is such a disparity between the third and forth rankings that the other children have no allusions about ever placing there. The fourth spot has become the number one spot for those who aren't supremely intelligent."

Well now I was impressed. The three highest ranked were so high up there that they steam rolled the competition. "It's those first three who are in the running to be your successor aren't they?"

"A very astute deduction, Light-kun," he commented sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes at him good naturedly. It was just a relief to me that he was in a better mood now. He must really be worried about these kids.

"Do you interact with any of them personally?" Maybe that was why he wanted to wrap this up. "Have a soft spot for children perhaps," I teased.

"I do not care for children one way or another," he began, smoothing out the wrapping to one of his previous candies. "I can sympathize with their situation, however. Most of them are in a very unique position and they deserve my protection in the least."

Smiling at him, I rubbed the side of my hand against his. "You won't fail them, Ryuzaki."

His only reply was to nod slightly and return to looking out the window once more.

Sighing, I laid my head against his shoulder. _Sometimes you just think too much…_

* * *

The remainder of the flight was not spent in as much silence as I had first anticipated. We'd spent the better half of the third hour trying to stump each other with riddles- an activity in which he unfortunately had me beat. I'd watched him make miniature origami out of his discarded candy wrappers for half an hour after that, only losing interest when the attendants came around with the in flight meals, which Ryuzaki adamantly refused to no one's surprise.

After eating I managed to catch up on some sleep I had missed over the previous week. I was only awoken to be informed that we were landing in twenty minutes.

All traces of sleep were gone from me and replaced by excitement. I had been to over a dozen countries since leaving Japan, but going somewhere new was always thrilling. And the thought of seeing where Ryuzaki grew up! I was ready to throw myself into that investigation. Yes, I would be probing every nook and cranny of this place to turn up any information about Ryuzaki that I could. Whether I would have his cooperation was still to be determined.

Ryuzaki, noticing my excitement, grabbed my hand. He took pleasure in what used to seem like the weirdest parts of our relationship. He explained to me once that after months of hiding my emotions, he liked to see me finally get excited about things.

Even before the Kira case had begun, I had typically been very composed. It was part of the persona I had adopted; make everything look easy, never let them know if you're struggling, a little mystery never hurt anyone. Be perfect.

Ryuzaki already knew quite well how flawed I could be. He'd seen the imperfections and he'd seen how I went through correcting them. It made no sense to continue to hide the good aspects of my person. That's what I was when I dropped the façade; a real, well rounded person, someone who had personal goals and aspirations. He knows how hard I really work and he only thinks more of me for it.

When we exited the airport a car immediately pulled to a stop in front of us. No one got out of the driver's seat, but the trunk was popped open.

After tossing our stuff in the trunk, Watari seated himself in the front while Ryuzaki and I took the back. I sat behind the driver and from this position I couldn't get a good look at him. I could only assume that this was Roger.

"Welcome back," he said coolly as we pulled away from the airport.

"It's good to be back," Watari responded. This must be his home too because the smile he gave in tandem was genuine.

"This must be the Light Yagami I've heard so much about."

 _Well he just gets right to the point doesn't he_? "You've been talking about me, Ryuzaki," I asked, turning toward him.

"They have to know what they're getting into, Light-kun. You are something of a handful," he deadpanned.

I scoffed. "I'm sure after having to deal with you, I'll seem like an angel in comparison." That left me with an idea. Was it possible that some of the staff would have remained from when Ryuzaki had lived here? I would sure be doing some super sleuthing at every opportunity I got.

"Which reminds me," he interjected. "When we are in the presence of others you must not call me Ryuzaki."

I had always hoped to avoid this talk. Ever since we had left Japan, L had always allowed me to continue calling him Ryuzaki. Since we never worked with anyone else, it didn't matter what I called him. It was because of this, however, that I got comfortable calling him Ryuzaki. At this point, for all intents and purposes, that was his name to me. Calling him anything else, with the exception of L, seemed wrong.

I propped my elbow up by the window. "What am I to call you then," I conceded.

"'Lew' is what the students know me by."

"Lew?" The look I gave him spoke volumes. It was odd, but odd enough that it had to mean something.

Clearly not wanting to take responsibility he confessed, "It was Watari's idea."

Watari and Roger shared a glance and chuckled. "Well it was more of a joint effort," the former amended.

"So what does it mean," I asked, not wanting to be left out the joke.

"Start picking up some books," Roger said to me. "You'll eventually find the right ones."

 _Well that wasn't vague._ However, I was fully willing to use this as an excuse to wander around the orphanage.

"So what will you be calling me then?" As long as it wasn't something ridiculous, I didn't care what I was called.

"You will continue to be Light-kun," he said, playing with the window button. "It makes my story more believable if there is proof to back up your identity. If they can't connect me to L, then your identity doesn't need to be kept a secret."

"You're a grown man now," Roger interceded. "I really wish you wouldn't do that to the windows every time you got in the car."

My eyebrows shot up. I'd never seen him do that before, but Roger explicitly divulged it to be a habit of sorts. This trip was already proving to be worth it.

To my surprise, Ryuzaki stopped immediately. He was quick to turn his face away from me completely, but not before I saw the faint tinge of pink that dusted his cheeks. I knew he wasn't blushing because he got caught, he did plenty things that were much stranger. Deciding to be merciful, I didn't call him out on it.

I did, however, throw a smirk his way when after five more minutes he was still looking determinedly out the window. It seemed I would be getting my quiet ride through the countryside after all.

* * *

It was just after nine at night when we arrived at the gates. At first glance, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. To say I was shocked by the size of the orphanage would be an understatement. Orphanages tended to be big, but I had expected differently of Wammy's House. Its purpose was to train especially gifted children and find a successor to L. This left me with the impression that it would be more 'secret society' like. I was now wondering how that many children managed to keep the secret of L's origins.

"How do you do it," I asked Watari.

He chuckled, understanding just what I was getting at. "Wammy's is less like an orphanage and more like a pre-intelligence agency. Many who reside here are trained with the knowledge that they will go out into the world to be sources of inside information to L. They end up with agencies like the FBI, NCA, NPA, CIA, and other countries equivalents. They aren't spies, but it is easier to work a case when we have access to all available information and agents who are willing to cooperate."

I had no idea just how immersed these kids were inside of the world's justice systems. I shouldn't have been surprised; it made sense. Where else would L have gotten all of those contacts? He really had all of the information of the world at his fingertips.

"Of course it's not required of them, but should they want to we have all of the necessities they should ever need to be a part of those organizations," Roger added.

I was relieved somewhat to know that this wasn't some sort of espionage training facility. If this was what the kids wanted, then who was I to argue? Had I been in the same circumstances, I would have jumped on an opportunity like this.

Pulling up to the front, it only looked bigger, more daunting. I was no stranger to the signs of high expectations. I didn't know what Ryuzaki had meant by the students higher in rank acting 'odd' and I didn't know what kind of atmosphere was held within these walls, but I had a number of guesses. I dearly hoped that the walls weren't a sterile white or that 'cheery' gender neutral yellow that got put in most babies' rooms when the parents wanted the sex to be a surprise.

We got out of the car and moved around to the trunk to get our bags. After slamming it shut I got my first close look at the orphanage. The lampposts leading all the way up the drive illuminated the yellow brick of the building; it was warm and welcoming. I didn't know why I was worried. Watari had been nothing but a good man since the moment I'd met him. I'd never heard a bad thing about him actually. Even after the frustration of having to work with L, there were never any stories of officers having a problem with Watari. The homey feeling of the orphanage would obviously extend to the inside as well.

Walking up the steps, the man in question turned to me and said, "It's after nine and all of the children should be in bed. You won't have them to worry about tonight."

That honestly wasn't a problem. I wanted to meet them, see just how smart they really were. I especially wanted to meet the three that were so far out of the other children's league. I wondered if they would be anything like Ryuzaki.

As soon as we were through the threshold, Roger turned back to lock up for the night. This was the first real glance I had gotten of the man. He was Watari's age and had look about him that said he was well versed in dealing with adolescent bullshit. I bet he looked perpetually exhausted.

I also used this as a chance to take in the rest of my surroundings.

Had I not known that this was an orphanage, it wouldn't have been my first guess. It was very well kept and there were no immediate signs of children. Perhaps it had been an estate at one point.

"I'll grab you boys something to eat," Watari said, pulling me from my thoughts. Then to Ryuzaki he suggested, "Why don't you show Light to his room?"

I had kind of expected to get the grand tour, but I guess that could wait until tomorrow. _There would be plenty of time for snooping around_ , I reminded myself.

I followed Ryuzaki down a separate hall from the one Watari and Roger had taken and up a staircase. The lights were far dimmer in this corridor; I could surmise that this was where the sleeping quarters were.

I glanced over at Ryuzaki. He was back to looking solemn. I wanted to be a comforting presence, but he wasn't the kind of person who could be comforted by words. He knew the psychology behind any word I could say. I could always try to distract him again, but silence would fair far better as a comfort.

After turning down another hallway we came to face a door. "This will be your room for the duration of the time we are here," he said monotonously. Pointing to another door he explained, "My room is this one next door. If at any time you need me, don't even bother to knock. Watari should be up with food shortly. If that is all, I shall see you in the morning," he ended abruptly. Without waiting to see if I had any questions, he retreated to his room.

I stood out in the hall a minute longer. He was rarely so distressed as this. It made me wonder if anyone had ever targeted Wammy's before. It would explain why he wanted this case solved as quickly as possible.

I let out a forlorn sigh and entered my room. I would never admit to it, but after months of being chained to him I felt lonely whenever he was absent. Never would anyone describe me as a dependent person and I was determined not to let it get to me.

My true desire, however, still lied with comforting Ryuzaki somehow. He was one of the few people I just couldn't turn an apathetic cheek toward.

* * *

L's POV

My bedroom hadn't changed since the last time I'd been here. It hadn't changed much in the entire time I'd resided here to be truthful. There wasn't even a layer of dust to confirm its disuse; Roger must have done a sweep before coming to pick us up.

It didn't look like he had done anything else though. The curtains were still drawn, my bed was still pointed to the center of the room on the wall perpendicular to the door, and, looking in my bedside drawer, I could confirm that my emergency stash of candy had not moved. I liked that Roger never subscribed to the idea feng shui or even being overly creative. I didn't have to worry about my furniture being against different walls every time I came to visit.

By the time Watari had arrived with my food, I didn't know if I felt like eating anything. He, however, was a very smart man and brought me something which I couldn't ever refuse- a strawberry cheesecake. It was his go-to whenever I was being discernibly 'difficult' as he had once put it. I wasn't going to complain- as was probably the point.

It's sweet flavor made the circumstances more bearable. I had wanted to take Light-kun here on my own terms, when I was ready for him to see what made me into the detective I was today. My hand had been forced and the choice taken away from me. Here, he would see that I was indeed expendable, at least as the figure 'L'. He didn't know enough of me yet to say that I wasn't replaceable. How he found something in me that he liked was still beyond me sometimes.

Truly that was my fault though. I knew he was curious about me. It was why I had agreed to our games where the winner would get to hear a story about the loser. Taking the choice away from myself was easier, but I was hoping that this time I would have it. There weren't many things I had told him of my own volition, and I knew that to really establish trust with him I would eventually have to willingly expose some part of myself.

I exhaled deeply. It wasn't in my nature to let myself be vulnerable.

After ridding myself of my pants and tossing them to some corner of the room, I unceremoniously ripped back the sheets of my bed and burrowed beneath them.

It was a strange thing to choose to fall asleep. Normally I would work to exhaustion or Light-kun would demand that I stop abusing my body in such a manner. I had been very tired as of late and our celebratory competition had only been the beginning of it.

Though I desired to sleep, it was eluding me. The room was too quiet, the sheets were too soft and thick, and the glowing numbers of my digital clock were too bright. I tried to tell myself that this was just another hotel room- a room like any of the one's I'd spent the night in over the last six months.

It was pointless. I knew this bed too well. My body recognized it despite not being here in more than a year.

I focused on my breathing, but trying to imagine what my breathing rate would be like while asleep was causing me to over think the whole process. This was all very frustrating.

I was about to start counting sheep when the door opened and the dim light of the hallway spilled through. It was closed as quickly as it was opened and I was engulfed in the darkness once more. My visitor didn't announce himself, and by that I could deduce that it was either an assassin or Light-kun.

When the covers lifted slightly and a body slid in behind mine, I knew it to be him.

He shuffled as close to me as he could get and wrapped an arm around my waist. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered suddenly.

I focused on his breathing.

* * *

 _Points to anyone who can guess where I got L's 'name' from._


	3. Whether for Good or Ill

_Oh, blessed be! This chapter is finally finished! I really tried to have it out a month ago before school started, but then it wasn't and college steamrolled me with a ton of work. I don't know what I was expecting…_

* * *

" _Now is the dramatic moment of fate, Watson, when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life, and you know not whether for good or ill."  
_ _-Sherlock Holmes to John Watson, The Hound of the Baskervilles_

* * *

When I woke up the next morning Ryuzaki was dead to the world. I wasn't even careful while I untangled myself from his limbs. After picking each of them up they dropped like dead weight back onto the bed.

I snickered. Every two or so weeks he would just crash and there was nothing he or anyone could do about it, much to his distain. There was one easy fix, but he would never consent to consistent and full nights of rest. He maintained that he would work until he ran out of steam.

Taking advantage of this moment of solitude, I returned to my room and readied myself for the day. When I went back in to Ryuzaki's room he was still sound asleep.

I would just let him sleep off his exhaustion, but _he_ was the one who was so eager to get this case underfoot.

I walked around to his side of the bed, determined to find some way to wake him up. Although I anticipated it not being at all effective, I squished his nose with the pad of my finger. _Might as well get the minor stimuli out of the way first._ That was what I told myself, but really I was hoping that I wouldn't have to resort to any extreme measures to wake him. I knew how… disagreeable he could be after a crash.

I ran my fingers through his hair and brushed it out of his face. "Ryuzaki," I cooed. "Put your game face on and let's go find something to eat."

He gave no response. There wasn't even a change in his breathing.

I huffed. I did not get dragged to England in such a rush only to have him tap out as we got here.

"Oh, look, cheesecake," I tried.

"There's been another incident."

"Buckingham Palace is on fire."

"I'm pregnant."

"Watari is Kira."

I flopped down onto the bed next to him. "You're killing me, Ryuzaki."

I heard a chuckle come from the doorway and saw Watari standing there with a tray of food.

It seemed that he had anticipated Ryuzaki's level of consciousness, as he'd only brought food for me.

"You always have such great timing," I commended him.

"It's sink or swim when it comes to keeping him out of trouble," he replied, gesturing to the lump in bed next to me.

I took the tray from him and assessed the offerings. "Wow…" There was steamed rice and grilled fish, and even nori and tamagoyaki.

"Yes, it is nice to have an actual kitchen again."

I could imagine. The hotel rooms were adequate, but they rarely had an operational kitchen. It was a far cry from what he was used to at the Kira investigation headquarters. We had been mostly sustained on simple meals and room service.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this." It was no stretch to say that Watari loved to make food. Whilst traveling, I'd never seen him turn down an opportunity. If there was a functional stove or oven, he wouldn't hear of us ordering room service.

"I'm always pleased to hear that you like my cooking. In truth, I'm glad for the opportunity to make dishes other than sweets. Would you like a tour of this old place," he asked, changing the subject.

I had thought about it, but it was always easier to be nosy when there wasn't anyone looking over your shoulder. "No, I think I'll look into that case for now, give Ryuzaki a reason to keep me around," I quipped. "Maybe I'll do some looking around later though." There was zero chance he didn't think I wanted to look around, but I could get away with saying I would do it later.

He bid me a good morning and was turning to leave when I stopped him for on last question. "Before you go, is there anything I should be aware of, any rules I should keep in mind?"

"There aren't any rules that would pertain to you. Though I wouldn't recommend leaving the property. It's one thing to get lost in these halls, but at least in here it is safe," he replied, albeit a bit ominously.

It was obvious by his statement that I was going to have a bit more freedom than I was used to. Usually on our cases there was never a reason for Ryuzaki and I to be separated. I suppose I was going to be getting a lot more alone time.

After Watari had left, I hurriedly finished my breakfast. I wanted to run through all the new information about the sex ring that had gone up in flames.

Returning to my room, I immediately started up my laptop. I didn't want to leave any chance of disturbing Ryuzaki.

There certainly was no lack of news coverage surrounding the fire. Just a preliminary glance at a few windows of news sites told me that I had everything I would need to get started.

Many of the articles focused on the victims and perpetrators, tending to steer clear of the word 'vigilante'. A few even speculated that it was one or more of the victims that started to fire. It was laughable, the attempt the press was making at shifting the blame. Apparently there were a couple of prominent figures found amongst the restrained. To state that a vigilante was involved would be to accuse those men of a crime. _Heaven forbid they be capable of such a thing._

I rolled my eyes and skipped over their worthless theories. It was the names of the victims I was looking for. They wouldn't be given out in a consecutive list, no, that would be far too convenient. Some of the victims were minors- those names wouldn't be released at all. I would have to look for quotes, anything they may have said to the press. It's not like we couldn't just send Watari to the police and have him line them all up to be interviewed. However, I still wanted to make an initial assessment.

The official count was sixteen. Of those, eleven were adult women, three young girls, and two young boys. Only three of the elder women had said anything to the press. These tidbits were mostly about the onslaught of the fire and their quick escape. It was about whatever had been fresh in their minds. It was going to take some work, but we would need to interview every witness.

I sighed. L always insisted on being present, in some form or another, for interviews. Transcripts, videos, or police accounts just wouldn't cut it. It tended to be a rough time getting people to come in if they had already spoken to the police. 'I already told the police everything,' they would say. Yeah, well we're not the police.

After an hour of keeping to myself, I deemed this an opportune time to sneak away. It was only nine thirty, so the kids would probably be in class. In hindsight, I should have asked when they would get out or how their schedules worked at all. Would they fill the halls and change rooms every so often or would they stay seated while the teachers made the move? Did they have free periods or breaks between their classes? I assumed they wouldn't have class all day, and I couldn't rely on Ryuzaki to hibernate into tomorrow evening. So I knew that if I wanted to investigate the first floor with the classrooms it would have to be now.

I traced my steps back down the hallway Ryuzaki and I had come from last night. Looking at the doors along the way I noticed that they had placards affixed to the wall next to them. Some of them had names and a few even had two. The farther from my door I got, the more consistent the presence of names became.

Making my way down the stairs, I tried to remind myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong. I had explicit permission to wander around. Despite this, I still felt absolutely devious.

Exiting the main hall, I crept down a corridor lined with classrooms. Each of these doors was labeled with a number. Subtly stealing glances into many of the rooms, I saw that there were never more than half a dozen kids in each class. There also wasn't much age consistency among them. It looked like there were seventeen year olds in with thirteen year olds, and even younger still. I wondered if they were placed in classes based on their ranking.

Further down the hall was a set of double doors. Through the glass I could see rows upon rows of books. I figured this would be as good a place as any to start looking for information. Beginning with finding out just who 'Lew' is.

Immediately adjacent to the doors was a librarian's desk occupied by a bored looking woman. There must not be much activity at this time of day. Even so, she was none too enthusiastic about pointing toward the detective novels in the fiction section.

 _It has to be some sort of inside joke,_ I told myself as I walked down the aisles.

The first books to stand out to me were the array of _Sherlock Holmes_ novels. Their copy of _The Hound of the Baskervilles_ was particularly worn.

I was thumbing through the other series' when, from the row behind me, there was a 'thump' and a simultaneous eruption of coughing.

I peaked around the corner and found a small sheep coughing into its sleeve.

 _And backtrack_ , I thought. _Sheep don't have sleeves…_

"Are you alright," I asked.

What I now identified as a boy of about thirteen raised his head to look me in the eyes. He stopped coughing immediately, though his body still racked with silent tremors. His stare was scrutinizing and his eyes reminded me so much of L's, but they lacked any sense of mischief. If he hadn't been dressed entirely in white, they would have been the first thing I noticed. Was it possible that being attired in nothing but white was a quirk of someone high in the rankings?

"Yes," the boy replied in short, bending to pick up a thin, but old book.

It seemed like getting conversation from this kid was going to be like pulling teeth. "Would you mind telling me how the class schedules are made? I'm trying to stay out of everyone's way."

It took him no time to answer. "It's strange you haven't been told," he mused.

"I don't think so," I retorted, crossing my arms in front of me. "They have other priorities."

"Mr. Wammy and Lew? Yes, I suppose they do."

The kid stood absolutely still, holding his book to his chest like a shield. He must be amongst the youngest kids in the orphanage. His body language suggests that he's defensive- probably not popular with the other kids. I made extra effort not to come off as hostile.

After taking a minute of silence to size me up he spoke again. "I suppose I can tell you how the schedules are arranged," he murmured.

I flashed him a smile. "I would appreciate that, thank you."

With unwavering eye contact he told me, "Each class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is one hour and fifty minutes in length. Classes start at nine in the morning and there are ten minutes in between. There is an hour break for lunch at ten to eleven. There are two classes after the lunch block. On Tuesdays and Thursdays classes are fifty minutes long. Two before lunch and three after; I'll let you infer the times they take place." The way he listed off the schedule was very mechanical, but if he was to be trusted, then I had roughly twenty minutes until class got out.

"Thanks," I replied. "So… why aren't you in class right now then?" If I was already asking questions then I wasn't going to worry about being nosy.

"I tested out of my English and Grammar class," he said, moving around me. "If you'll excuse me…" I watched him walk to the librarian's desk and then out of sight.

* * *

After the albino boy had left, I retreated back to the detective novels. It took fifteen minutes of reading book synopses before I had found the origin of 'Lew'. I chuckled. Maybe I would call L Mr. Archer when he woke up.

Looking at the clock affixed to the wall I saw that there was only a few minutes before the first class would be ending. I wasn't ready to draw attention to myself so I decided to stay in the library until ten.

Grabbing a book from the shelf, I walked back up to the front desk.

"It's you again," the woman sighed.

I gave her a cheery smile and tried not to take her lack of enthusiasm personally. "Yeah, it's me- Light," I introduced myself, holding out my hand.

She shook it cautiously with a strange look.

"I'm not a student here," I started, "but I was wondering if I would still be able to check out this book."

"You're a guest here," she questioned.

I nodded in affirmation.

"I need your room number," she said typing into her computer.

After giving her my number and other bits of arbitrary information, I started _my_ questioning. "So how long have you worked here?"

She paused for a moment in though. "A bit more than four years. I'll tell you though, it feels like more."

"Why is that," I inquired.

"Most of these kids keep to themselves, but I swear there are a few that seem to have clones. Just impossible to keep track of…" she muttered, demagnetizing the book.

"Was Lew one of them," I asked, careful to keep my tone casual.

It was a shame she gave me the only answer I wasn't looking forward to. "Who's Lew?"

"Mr. Wammy's son." I was hoping either he slipped her mind or that she genuinely didn't know. I was going to hit some serious walls if all of the staff had been instructed not to talk about him.

She inhaled sharply as if in epiphany then shook her head. "I'm vaguely aware of him."

I accepted that I wasn't going to find any answers here.

* * *

Or anywhere for that matter.

It was well after lunch and everyone I encountered seemed only "vaguely aware" of Mr. Wammy's son Lew. The only concrete piece of information I got was that neither of them returned to Wammy's House very often. I had briefly considered asking some kids, but I doubted any of them had been around at the same time he had. He had taken the title of 'L' at eight years old after all.

My stomach growled in protest. It was rare for me to skip meals even when on a case. I much preferred to make a point of eating nutritious food in front of Ryuzaki as if to will a change of heart.

I checked the time on my phone- it was just after two. I had explored most of the first and second floors of the orphanage by this point. It was only right that I investigated the kitchen as well. I had come across it earlier in the day, but didn't see a point in going in if I was only going to come back once I was hungry.

Upon entering I was met with the reproachful words of a young Hispanic man with mismatched eyes. "What is it you think you're doing in here," he demanded, arms crossed.

"I'm not a student if that's what you're worried about. I'm here with Lew and Mr. Wammy. I just happened to miss lunch," I explained.

His eyes narrowed. "You don't want this kitchen," he answered before walking off with no elaboration.

I stood dumbly, watching him leave. _Then what kitchen would I want?_

As if answering my question, a voice sounded from behind me. "This is the main kitchen where we cook for the students. You're looking for Mr. Wammy's private kitchen."

I turned to address the woman speaking to me and was met with another pair of disparate brown and green eyes.

She had her thumb stuck out over her shoulder pointing to a door off to my right. "You may call me Andrea, and I will not be your server tonight," she said with a wink, leaving in the same direction as the other man.

I didn't take their departures personally. They probably had a limited amount of time to cook a meal for dozens of students.

As per Andrea's suggestion, I took the door to my right and was met with a smaller, yet cozy second kitchen. The atmosphere was much more intimate. I had no difficulty imagining Watari moving about in here, garnishing a fresh cheesecake.

I wandered over to the refrigerator hoping for a premade miracle. With Watari around, I never had to confront my one weakness for home economics. I suppose if all else failed, I could make a sandwich…

After rifling through the refrigerator briefly, I came across a saran wrapped plate with my name on it. A quick encounter with the microwave and I would be all set.

Taking the wrap off, I turned to locate said microwave, and instead stood face to face with Sleeping Beauty… ahem… Ryuzaki. He looked hardly aware of his surroundings, but with his thumb nail in his mouth, I could tell that he was trying.

I chuckled. "It's about time you woke up." I set my plate down and returned to the refrigerator; there had been something labeled for him as well. Once found, I placed it in his already waiting hands. For a moment, he only looked at the bowl of chocolate pudding as if it were the loveliest thing he could ever lay eyes upon. "On second thought, maybe you should go back to sleep," I teased.

He ignored me and shuffled away, likely in search of a spoon.

By the time I had sat down to eat, he was already halfway though his bowl. I glanced at him; his spoon was drooping in between his pointer finger and thumb and those normally scrutinizing eyes were hardly open even a fraction. I was about to ask him if he thought coma patients had dreams when he languidly put out a question of his own.

"Did you enjoy snooping around today, Light-kun?" His mouth opened wide with a yawn and his pudding laden spoon hovered pointlessly in the empty space between his lips.

I would neither confirm nor deny my feelings on this matter. While the act itself was amusing enough, it was less than fruitful. I gave him a smirk and a noncommittal shrug before digging into my own food.

Ryuzaki wrapped his tongue around the spoon. "I hope it frustrates you to know that you _couldn't_ have found anything. Perhaps I could have told you that, but I had to keep you out of trouble somehow," he mused.

It did frustrate me. I wanted some sort of reward for my efforts; at least I knew how to be patient.

I moved my fork about my plate. "I would never dream of causing trouble, Ryuzaki." With a roll of my eyes, I added, "I was on my best behavior."

He swiped his finger around the inside of the bowl and loudly sucked the pudding off, humming in contentment. Looking more awake now he asked, "Out of curiosity, just how many people did you approach today hoping to gain information of my childhood?"

He knew me so well. "As many as I could," I replied.

He sighed and there was a little smile on his face. "This brings to mind the time you tried to glean information from me one fine day under that tree."

I rubbed my hands over my face. "Let's not talk about that."

Ryuzaki, likely about to say that he 'wanted to talk about that', was interrupted by Watari's sudden entrance into the room.

He looked to the both of us sitting at the island before saying, "It's a good thing you are both here." Then to Ryuzaki specifically, "I trust you've slept well."

He bobbed his head in affirmation.

"Good, because I have some bad news," he confessed.

The two of us now gave him our undivided attention.

"There are signs…" he began. "That Kira has returned."

My blood turned to ice in my veins.


	4. Alibis

_I am back just in time for Christmas! Happy holidays, y'all! Please accept this heartfelt gift!  
As you can see, I have increased the rating on the story from T to M. This is going to be due to a consistent theme of violence and graphic imagery for most of the remainder of the story. In this chapter specifically there will be mentions of previous sexual abuse. It will be dark. You have been warned, though I hope this does not dissuade you.  
I would like to thank my fantastic beta __**Vicious Ventriloquist**_ _, for looking over this chapter and guiding me in the direction I had hoped to go.  
The italics in the middle of the chapter are memories. _

* * *

Thirteen inmates were dead. The first twelve had gone by suicide all within minutes of each other. This in and of itself was suspicious, but few would have batted an eye. It wasn't unheard of for inmates to create suicide pacts. If it weren't for the thirteenth man dropping dead of a heart attack, there could have been a perfectly normal explanation. However, he did drop dead of a heart attack- and it happened while he was in solitary, where he wouldn't have been able to carry out his suicide.

Needless to say, it didn't look good for me. I couldn't help but curse my luck for this to happen on the one day that I was left without supervision. There was but a single direction for the finger to point.

I didn't want to hear him accuse me again.

Thus far, and to my amazement, he'd gone two hours without doing so. He had hardly spoken to me at all during that time in fact. Perhaps he knew that if he opened his mouth that would be the first thing to come out.

I didn't want to hear that accusation again, rolling over like a broken record; it filled me with a sense of anticipation. Much in the same way one looks forward to a presentation. You know it's coming, so you just want to get it over with.

"We will be leaving now, Light-kun," he deadpanned.

I shut my laptop and rose to join him. He didn't wait for me before walking out the door.

I tried not to let it sting, but it was different this time. This time, I really _didn't_ do it. It had never affected me in one way or another when I was Kira. He knew it was me, I knew it was me- it was just the reality of the situation. And I owned it. Now I just felt guilty.

I let him stay three paces ahead of me as we walked down the hallway. When we finally made it outside to the car, Watari was holding the door open for us. I forced myself to look him in the eyes and thank him. I wasn't guilty, so I shouldn't act like it.

The ride to the station was quiet- not that I expected any different. Even Watari did not try to break the tension.

When we got there we gave them our "associates of L" shtick. They let us right on through and back to the victims they had rounded up. Out of consideration for the families, I suggested the children go first. L and I had quickly agreed that they were of no help. They were too young to take notice of anything that didn't directly pertain to themselves.

Everyone's stories were pretty standard in fact. They were being forced to "entertain" customers when they saw smoke coming from underneath the door.

Nothing had garnered our attention until we'd interviewed the ninth woman. She'd mentioned her customer getting bludgeoned over the head by another blonde woman as he tried to exit the room. At that point we'd interviewed all the blonde women. None of them had mentioned hitting anyone, only running at the first sign of smoke.

After reaching out to the women again, they affirmed their story. Their goal was to escape and none of them had hit anyone. Five of them however, said that they saw a blonde woman-or girl- hitting men with an object as they tried to leave. They didn't stick around to see what happened after though.

Now we were getting somewhere.

"Her hair was short and wavy," one said.

"She was wearing shorts," said another. "I remember her purple tank top."

"I think she was about seventeen," informed the eldest woman.

"Where did this girl go," L had asked each of the women.

"She ran off," they all inexplicably answered.

We needed more than that. As I ran through possible routes of questioning in my head, a cup of coffee was held out close to my face.

"You have been staring into the light for the last twenty two minutes," came a monotonous murmur. "You have been paying attention to our victims haven't you?"

I took the cup gratefully. The time change still ravaging my body and mind. "Of course I have. Need you even ask?"

He sat back down next to me and pulled his legs tight against his chest. "Yes, Light-kun, because you are _still_ staring at the light."

I set the cup down. Coffee wasn't what my body really needed right now. "I have a headache," I admitted, bringing my fingers to my temples and rubbing gently.

"It is just after 4 in the afternoon in Toronto. You wouldn't be asleep anyway," he informed me.

"That's not the point. My body doesn't know what time it's supposed to be."

Ryuzaki glanced up to the wall above the door. "Ten after nine," Light-kun.

I grimaced. "I'll be sure to tell my brain that."

He nodded in agreement and told Watari to bring one of the women back in.

Pressing a button, he leaned in to the microphone to address her. "Miss Turner, tell us everything you can remember about the girl with the blonde hair."

She sighed and visibly deflated. This was the second time she had been called back into the room. It took no stretch of the imagination to guess why she wanted to go home.

"Well…," she started, "she must have been a new one. I hadn't seen her before. Until I was bolting out the door, I mean." Miss Turner roughly ran one hand through her hair. "I didn't see her hit anybody, but she was dragging some dude out by the back of his shirt. You know," she paused shaking her head. "I would have just left him."

"Did you say anything to her," L inquired.

"No. If she wanted to risk her life for some arse-hole it wasn't any of my business."

I leaned forward and pressed the button to speak. "What happened next? Did anyone make contact with her?"

"I went straight to the other side of the street. All those guys were already tied up and I didn't want to be over there with them. Or the fire," she added, eyes wandering to the clock.

L didn't look pleased. "With the girl, Miss Turner. I need a precise account of her actions."

She scowled at his invalidating choice of words. "She came out after I did, dumped the guy, and bolted. Is that what you want to hear," she growled. "Because that's all there is to say. Some girl tried to call to her, asked her where she was going, but she didn't even look back. Just ran down the street like a bat out of hell." Miss Turner tilted back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. She was done talking.

I sighed. "You are free to go," I spoke into the microphone.

She didn't need to be told twice.

I laid my face in my hands, trying to rub away the frustration. "This is so bothersome." Interviewing victims was typically one of my least favorite jobs. They never knew what was important and tended to lose patience rather quickly, never mind that we were trying to help them.

I reached out for the coffee, deciding that I needed the caffeine after all. My knuckles struck the side of the cup and it tumbled off the edge of the table, the liquid inside exploding all over the ground.

Groaning, I flung myself back into my chair and squeezed the sides of my head. "You have got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Watari excused himself to find someone to clean it up.

L just stared at the puddle on the ground. "Perhaps it is your bed time, Light-kun."

"I wouldn't even argue. I'm ready to sleep in the car." An hour and a half of sleep was looking good, even if it wasn't in a bed. Maybe on top of the time change, our previous week of competition was catching up with me.

When Watari returned the next moment, I was excited for him to tell us that it was time to leave. Instead he said, "It seems that there is someone that wants to talk to you. I told them to go right in."

L and I exchanged a look. _Them?_

We turned back to the one way glass to see a little girl, no more than eight, and her parents walk into the room.

"I thought all the children were gone for the night," I inquired.

"She overheard one of the women speaking about this mysterious blonde girl. Apparently they had an encounter she wished to tell you about," he explained.

"Would you explain to me why you are here," L asked, cutting right to the chase.

The girl looked to her mother who encouraged her to speak. She took a few deep breaths before saying, "I saw the girl the others were taking about."

"Would you please explain what happened that night," L asked in a surprisingly polite tone.

She looked to her parents again, and they nodded at her. "A man carried her in. She… she had a potty mouth," the girl giggled. "She was put into a different room, but when the fire started she came to get us."

"You and the other children," I elaborated.

"Yes," she nodded. "I was scared, but she carried me out. She was nice; she smelled like candy."

"What happened after she carried you out," L urged.

"She brought us across the street and ran back in. Why would she do that," the girl asked, confusion evident in her voice.

Ignoring her question, he asked, "Did you see where she went after she exited the building for the last time?"

We both suspected that she had something to do with the fire. Everyone we had questioned relayed the same information. The unconscious and tied up men were already present outside the building when they had all made their escape. She was the only variable not accounted for.

The little girl shook her head. "She turned a corner and I couldn't see her."

L made one last attempt to get information from her. "Is there nothing else you can remember?"

She looked down at her feet. "No."

Before L could take the microphone again I intervened. "Thank you for your time. You have been very helpful."

I wasn't going to let him degrade her for not being omniscient and my act of gratitude seemed to cheer her up some.

"I am surprised you didn't smack the microphone off the table as well," L mocked after the girl and her parents left.

"Take me home, you jerk," I scowled, rising from my chair. I had to step around the puddle of coffee on my way to the door.

* * *

I had not slept well. The human mind can only take so much. The timing of each progression of events could not have possibly been worse. Were I Ryuzaki, I would be spouting off the statistical improbability that had been my life during these past couple of days.

The human mind can only take so much. It's a good thing I was built stronger.

" _Stay in your room tonight."_

It didn't come as a surprise. It only hurt _a little_ as he closed the door to his room in my face. I couldn't fool myself that he was doing it out of consideration- so he wouldn't keep me up all night with his tap, tap, tapping away at the keyboard.

What did come as a surprise was that he wasn't the first one to accuse me of being Kira. Nor that I did not go to sleep alone…

 _A dreadful laughter filled the room as I pulled my shirt down over my head._

" _It sure took me a while to find you this time. It's way harder when you're not carrying around that notebook. I almost went back upstairs to find you the easy way."_

 _I turned around to see a familiar shinigami lounging on my bed._

" _Ryuk," I greeted him._

" _You have really outdone yourself this time. This place is practically swimming in apples," he mused, producing one from behind him._

" _Don't get any on my bed," I scolded. I had learned a while ago that the apples were the only thing keeping me alive since I had stopped using the Death Note. I knew better than to tell him to stop eating them outright._

 _He chuckled. "That's my Light- all neat and orderly. Some things never change." He took a bite of his apple, making a show of not getting any on the sheets._

 _There were only the sounds of chewing for a moment before he spoke again. "I knew you wouldn't be able to help yourself. Once a Kira, always a Kira." He made no attempt to contain his maniacal laughter._

" _I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, moving into the bathroom to brush my teeth._

" _I made a little stop in your boyfriend's room before landing here. An L.A. prison… you couldn't be more subtle," he joked._

" _So they were really killed by a Death Note then," I inquired, readying my toothbrush. Was it possible that he knew more about this occurrence?_

 _Ryuk floated several feet off my bed. "How should I know? Humans die all the time. If it wasn't you, then maybe you have bigger problems than an accusation. Then again, this is L. Being butt-buddies might not save you."_

 _I rinsed my mouth out. "Don't be vulgar. I didn't do it, so I have nothing to worry about."_

" _Sure you don't," he humored me. "Maybe you'd like to take the eye deal now just in case?"_

" _If I wouldn't even take the deal to restore my eyesight when I was completely blind, I'm still not going to take it now." He had offered the week after I had gotten my diagnosis. It would have been an easy fix; it would have even made my eyesight better than it had been before the whole abduction episode. I had been tempted. Logically though, it was a better choice to wait it out and see what happened. There was a possibility that my vision could still come back on its own, and it did._

 _He sighed dramatically. "When did you become such a stick in the mud?"_

" _I don't do exciting things anymore, Ryuk," I conceded. "I just witness them, at least by your standards."_

Ryuk hadn't stuck around long after that, likely leaving to raid the kitchens. His sudden and random appearances didn't unnerve me like they did shortly after I had made the decision not to use the Death Note anymore. Our working relationship was now based in the assumption that staying on Earth, despite the lack of killing, was still better than going back to the shinigami realm. He dropped in every couple of weeks to "convince" me to be Kira again, but we both knew he was almost indifferent to the idea. He took a "it was fun while it lasted" mentality, while still holding onto the hope that perhaps one of these days I was going to come crawling back to him.

I would never admit that sometimes I was afraid I would.

On bad days, I was truly grateful that he was gone for the most part. Even though I didn't know where he was when he was gone, he was doing it quietly so I couldn't complain.

I decided not to dwell on my spontaneous visitor any longer, and instead hauled myself out of bed and into the shower. It was there that I decided not to stop by Ryuzaki's door on my way down to the kitchens for breakfast. When he wanted me, he could come and find me.

* * *

Or he could send Watari. Ryuzaki was either being vague on purpose or passive aggressive.

He had caught me walking out of the kitchen. My first thought had been that he'd wanted to make me breakfast. Before I could assure him that it was already taken care of he said, "Your presence is being requested in Lew's room." He even escorted me all the way there as though he didn't trust me to make it on my own.

I didn't greet Ryuzaki until Watari had left us and I was seated right next to him. "What a privilege it is to see your not so smiling face."

He didn't give me the satisfaction of retaliation. "I have been reviewing the security footage all night. We will continue to do so now. Obviously we are looking for a blonde girl in a purple shirt," he explained.

"There couldn't have been so many cameras- in that area in particular- that you wouldn't be done viewing them by now if you watched them all night." It wasn't the best area in the city; I had my doubts about the availability of footage.

"I viewed all that I had access to at the time. I have received more since beginning this endeavor," he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.

I took note of my laptop which, was already set up on the desk two feet away from him. _If he wasn't going to bring it up, I wasn't going to bring it up._ After calmly taking my seat, I cracked into the area's footage. If I'd had a sixth sense, it would have been telling me how pointless a venture this was.

* * *

Nine hours later and well past sunset, we were waiting on the security footage from establishments further from the crime scene's proximity. More had been coming in all day, each just as useless as the last. The vigilante had obviously planned their route so that they wouldn't be caught on any cameras. Such a painstaking process would be hard to forget. We'd called the taxi companies in London and no drivers had been involved in such a specific request. They must have had their own car.

I was clicking into a new file when Ryuzaki's phone buzzed with a new text. Within a moment he was tossing away the phone and a video was playing from his laptop.

I leaned toward him to see the screen.

Three government officials had been found brutally murdered in their homes. In each of their possessions was an audio recording confessing to their involvement and assault of victims in the sex ring. The newscaster didn't go into much detail, but the attached article did shed some light.

The murders took place between noon and four. Each of the three men had been restrained in their own homes, sodomized with various objects, and extracted of a confession.

L picked up his phone again. "Watari, I want you to make sure, with absolute certainty, that no Wammy's students were gone during this time," he said. The urgency in his tone was not lost on me.

The extent of the situation just then occurred to me. "You mentioned before that it might have been an inside job," I began. "Inside- like Wammy's? You suspected a student, didn't you?"

He didn't deny it. "At first I did. When that…establishment went up in flames, I reconsidered the possibility. A student wouldn't be so careless as to attract that much attention to themselves and risk Wammy's coming under scrutiny. I need to be sure, though."

I had come across many students in the time I had been here. The thought of any of these kids committing the graphic atrocities we'd read about made my blood run cold. "What are the chances," I asked him.

Before he could answer, we heard Watari's voice over the PA system. "All students are to report to the dining hall immediately. No exceptions." There was no reveal in his voice, no information given in his statement. It was short and the students only knew the necessary information- that their presence was required.

I turned back to Ryuzaki looking for more of an explanation.

"Given the current roster, approximately fifteen percent," he said, answering my previous question. "That is a considerably high estimate."

"Not to be nosy, but how many students are there, exactly?" I needed some perspective on this issue.

He considered my question for a moment before replying. "There should be fifty-two students currently residing in these walls."

"While Watari collects their alibis, we need to get more information," I informed him.

He nodded, already opening up a channel to communicate with the police.

I turned back to my screen and searched through more information that was available to the public. What L needed from me right now was silence.

The call took no time at all. The police had been waiting for him, ready to part with copies of all the available information and evidence. They would send more when pertinent.

I abandoned my search for public info on my laptop and joined L at his; it was all redundant anyway. "Did they send the coroner's reports yet?"

"There is a report for the first and second victims. I assume they have not gotten to the third quite yet. I will read these, and you will read the police reports. We need to know the time line."

I nodded my affirmative and got to reading. We would exchange information shortly.

Upon my completion of the reports I stretched back in my chair. I had my doubts about ever getting used to sitting for days at a time. At least now I had the consolation of reading something interesting. Or perhaps… provocative would be a better word.

"I am thoroughly disturbed," I stated.

"Then be glad you did not read the coroner's reports, Light-kun. They would have upset your delicate sensibilities," he teased.

His tone did not go unnoticed. Perhaps my possibility of being Kira was the lesser of two evils at the moment.

I rolled my eyes and continued. "The crime scenes were clean of any prints, besides our victims' and their prospective spouse's of course. While none were entirely dressed, their clothing was not replaced on their persons or missing from the room. From the first crime scene they collected a voice recorder, rope that was used to restrain the victim, and a curling iron as evidence. They had to remove the curler from inside the man," I sighed. _Disgusting._ "The report says it was still turned on."

"The coroner's report corroborates this story. The man had third degree burns nearly up to his colon. Stomach contents of both men suggest that they were also forced to ingest approximately one pint of horse semen."

I was positive that I made an unpleasant face. "Officers said that there were traces of a white substance found on their clothes."

"I can assume that our third victim's stomach contents will look similar?" he inquired.

"More than likely," I confirmed.

"According to the coroner's report Victim One also sustained trauma to his rib cage. His five broken and singular splintered ribs suggest he was beaten with a blunt object. His official cause of death is respiratory failure from a pulmonary laceration." He paused for a moment before adding, "If I'm not mistaken, I believe several of the women we interviewed were beaten and sustained bruising to their chests."

I nodded. "I've not yet listened to the recordings, but the report's say that they are confessions. Our three victims escaped the night of the fire. However, they were named by some of the women we interviewed."

"That information wasn't released publicly. Our vigilante has skill in obtaining information," L concluded. He brought his thumb nail up to his lip and picked up his phone with the fingers of his opposite hand. "I need Watari to give me an update immediately," he muttered, quickly tapping out a text.

I went back to the briefing. "Victim Two was also found restrained by rope in his bedroom. Another recording device was found at the scene. He too was sodomized, though with a hairbrush." I squinted at the report. "It says here in parentheses '360 coverage'."

"It means that the brush is shaped like a rod with bristles covering all surface area of the head," he clarified.

I shuffled through the digital files of evidence. "Picture confirms."

L's hand was moving absently over his cell phone, but he didn't take his eyes off the screen. "Official cause of death is exsanguination."

 _Blood loss._ I glanced at the second and third reports again. "They didn't find his hands at _that_ crime scene."

"But they found them at the third," he extrapolated.

"Indeed," I groaned. "Victim Two's hands were attached with epoxy to Victim Three's genitals. I'm sure once the coroner's report comes in it will say the same."

He reached to the candy dish beside his laptop, picking one out at random. "There was a recording device at this scene as well?" He unwrapped the candy and tossed it into his mouth. It clicked against his teeth and he sucked it to one cheek.

"Yes," was all I could say before he pounced upon his vibrating phone, bringing it immediately to his ear. He didn't say a word, only listened as Watari spoke. The call was less than thirty seconds, but it must have been reassuring. His shoulders relaxed some and he lessened his hunch over his knees.

"All of the students were accounted for and their alibis sound. None of them have left the grounds in several days," L explained.

I, too, was relieved by this. "One less thing to worry about."

"I would not count our chickens just yet. This does not make things better, only that they are not worse." He crunched down on the candy in his mouth and moved to grab another one. "What is included in the rest of the police report?"

"Pictures show that the skin was missing from Victim Three's hands." My eye twitched. I was beyond asking where people came up with this stuff. "It was found tucked in the pockets of a coat."

His laptop gave a noise and he diverted his attention from our conversation to read the final report. "The third man was not sodomized. However, he was made to, as I believe the term is, 'deep throat' a fire iron."

I spared a glance at my screen. "It says here that there was a fire going in a separate room," I informed him.

"He suffered third degree burns to his tongue, lips, and throat. Official cause of death is a severed spinal cord resulting in asphyxiation via fire iron. His hands were flayed antemortem." He rolled the candy over his tongue for a moment and looked over the remainder of the report. "He was also made to ingest horse semen. And it is worth noting that every victim had traces of the same sedative in their blood."

I decided to ignore the fact that he didn't mention that piece of information sooner and turned back to my laptop. "I think we should crack into those confessions now. They can give us more insight as to what went on in those rooms. Without waiting for his answer I pressed play on the first recording.

► _There was a shuffling sound and then a whimper._

" _State your name for the recording device," said a gravely and high pitched distorted voice._

I glanced at L with raised brows, and he returned my look. Neither of us had expected to hear the killer as well.

" _James Clarke." He swallowed loudly and gasped, the noise coming across as a drowning man desperate for air. "Let me go! Please…"_

 _There was total silence for a moment suggesting that the recording had stopped, then it resumed._

 _The sounds of sobbing and choking bled through the recorder, when the man-James Clarke-next spoke, his voice was stark with terror. "I did it. Yes, I was there. Please don't!" The choking and gagging noises got louder._ I realized what he was being forced to do and bile rose in the back of my throat.

" _Don't throw up," the distorted voice commanded; their tone was unnervingly calm. "Tell me what you did."_

" _I had sex with a woman," James gasped. He immediately started choking again. It was a sickening noise, akin to someone being strangled, and it suggested that he had the mouth of the container being shoved down his throat._

I didn't want to listen to this; I didn't want to hear what I knew was going to happen. My skin broke out in goose-bumps and I forced myself to listen to every word, trying to ignore the voice inside my head saying that the other recordings were likely to be similar.

" _You raped her, that's what you mean."_

 _The man didn't respond at first, but his horrified wheezing dwarfed all other background noise._

 _The killer spoke up again, this time with more force in their tone. "Did it look like she wanted it?"_

 _James sobbed for a moment before answering, and when he did his voice continued to shake. "N- no."_

" _Then why did you do it?"_

" _Because I paid for her and it didn't matter at the time." The choking noise he made after was grotesque. In a way, not seeing the scene play out made the recording all the more surreal, all the more shocking._

 _The distorted voice urged him to say more. "How many women did you use?"_

" _It was just the one-"his voice was cut off and replaced by the sound of plastic clicking off of his teeth, following by more gagging and sputtering. "Four girls! It was four…" he confessed. "Dear God, please stop," he whimpered._

" _What did you do to them?"_

" _I had sex with-raped them! I raped them," he screamed suddenly, under the threat of ingesting more horse semen._

" _Is that all you did?"_

" _Yes, I sw-"he was cut off this time by a loud and deep thump._

I flinched when I heard the breath leave his body.

" _Liar, liar, pants on fire. That's not what they said. Now tell the truth." There was a sort of sadistic amusement in the voice._

My stomach turned when I realized thatthere was more to this than the motives of a vigilante.

" _I b-beat them," James cried out, the words nearly indecipherable amidst his pathetic blubbering._

 _The voice took on a teasing sort of tone. "That's right. You hit them hard. You forced your disgusting body on them and you bruised them. Black and blue…" the distorted voice faded out with a sing-songy inflection._

 _In the background James' gasping could be heard, only amplified by the despair at his situation._ _The man was weeping pitifully, reduced to nothing more than a sobbing child in the presence of the person who would soon take his life in one of the most gruesome ways I could conceive of._ _There was no other noise for half a minute, save for his broken sobs._

" _W-What are you doing with that," he asked, panic evident in his frantic tone of voice._

" _Nothing you're not familiar with," the distorted voice concluded. Then there was the silence of an ended recording._

The other two recordings were similar in nature. Victim Two confessed to raping and molesting two of the teenage captives. Victim Three confessed to forcing a child to perform oral sex. It was easy to follow the logic of the vigilante's methods of torture. He punished the men with what they forced their victim's to endure.

"This is all very extreme. With the phone calls he made to the authorities, I'd say that he's confident he won't be caught. Or that he wants to be caught," I concluded.

"Our vigilante has been escalating; first with the fire, and now murder. This vigilante has been out and about for some time now. Until this past week, their work has been public disturbance- minor injury type interference. Almost spur of the moment, street level vigilante work. Why has it become so calculated," he mused.

"I think we should consider that there may be more than one person involved. Three men is a lot to go through in one afternoon-." I was interrupted by a loud scuffle and poorly hushed whispers outside the door.

L ignored them and continued. "That is one possibility. A man and young woman working together-." he too was interrupted by what sounded like someone being thrown into the door.

We looked each other in the eyes and then looked to the door. Hearing noises in the hall was far from strange; this was a school, after all. Though, for the most part, they came and went pretty quickly. These noises seemed intentional.

"Perhaps we should see who it is," I suggested.

His eyes glazed over. "This happens occasionally. Just ignore it."

"Are you saying that you just ignore every child that happens to knock on your door?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Light-kun."

I rose from my seat and made my way toward the door, if only to annoy him. With a twist of the knob, two teenagers fell forward into the room.


	5. Alphabet Soup

Oh, Lordy… I had this done two weeks ago, but hadn't had the time to edit it. I suppose I'm still on a better schedule than my last story though.  
I'd like to thank my beta, **ViciousVentriloquist** , for once again putting up with me.

* * *

"Who the fuck are you?" the blond one demanded from his position on the floor.

I recoiled and positioned myself so as to block their view of the rest of the room. Judging by his voice, what I had initially assumed to be a young girl, was definitely not a girl. "Just who exactly are _you_?"

"That's rude. You can't just ask a student here who they are," he scoffed derisively, as if his right to privacy outweighed my own.

"That's a bit hypocritical, don't you think?" came a soft voice from the doorway.

 _Indeed it was._ I redirected my attention to the hallway, and to my surprise, the source of the second voice looked very familiar; it was the not-sheep kid from the library. Before I could question the pair further, the blond one was picking himself up off the floor and making more demands.

"We're here to see L," he said, taking on an expression that said he wouldn't take kindly to refusal.

I didn't react. In a way, I'd almost anticipated this. I didn't think that he would be able to hide under a bunch of genius' noses, especially if they were as smart as he said they were.

"Then I hope you like disappointment," I told them.

L was suddenly behind me, and in his usual monotone he said, "It's alright, Light-kun. They obviously have something important to say."

This time I did react. I glared at him. _I had this handled_ , I wanted to say to him. What I did say was, "Who are these kids?"

"These are my children, Light-kun."

Three of us were left gaping while both L and the not-sheep looked firmly impassive.

"I suppose legacy would be a more accurate term," he clarified a moment later. "These are the three students in the running to inherit my title."

The blond recovered with a flip of his hair. "Damn straight," he affirmed, adorning a look that told me he'd never been so smug.

This look didn't get passed L. "Yes, Mello here has the _second_ highest scores in Wammy's. He's very smart."

This statement was a one-hit-KO if I'd ever seen one. If Mello was 'very smart', whoever had the number one spot was smarter still. Judging by Mello's expression, it was not due to lack of effort on his part.

Out of the two options I was left with, I decided that the not-sheep standing behind Mello must be the contender. My assessment was based almost entirely on the fact that at least _he_ wasn't still lying on the ground.

The grin on Mello's face was immediately displaced. I made no effort to hide my satisfaction.

He, to my astonishment, actually growled at me.

At this, floor-boy finally spoke up. "This is a big moment for you Mello," he said with a hint of a cheeky undertone. "Do try to play nicely." His jape was followed by the unwelcome sound effects from a portable gaming device.

"Get off the floor, you clod," Mello yelled, hauling him up from his arm pits. To his frustration, floor-boy couldn't be bothered to redirect his attention from the small screen.

With arms crossed and weight shifted to one leg, I threw them an impatient look. "As much fun as this introduction has been, I'm still hoping that there's a point to all this nonsense."

L stepped closer to the commotion. "Light-kun is right. As you've deduced my identity, you must also know that I am quite busy. Time is of the essence, in fact."

The albino child spoke up. "You are correct. Our intrusion is both important and relevant."

This kid, he could have been cloned from L's own DNA. His words, with the familiar monotony, could have come out of L's own mouth. It was his eyes that truly grabbed hold of me, however. I had noticed the resemblance before in the library, if only briefly, but now the similarities stood out to me.

They were sharp, highly observant… and also very empty. They were empty as L's eyes had been when I first met him, empty as they were after every accusation to my person. They were the eyes of someone who knew only their logical purpose. I wondered if he could at least find enjoyment in it as L had.

"Do tell us then, Near," he replied, eyes boring into the similar ones. His gaze almost gave off the impression that he was testing his smaller counterpart.

Near turned around to close the door before speaking again. "Am I correct to assume that your presence here can be explained by the recent vigilante disturbances?"

"That is precisely the reason we are here," L answered, moving further into the room and back to his laptop. He sat in the chair and brought his legs to his chest, but did not face the screen.

Like a magnet, my response was to coordinate my movement to his. I positioned myself to his side and rested against his chair. The sharp corner of the seat dug into my ribs, but I would suffer it to display a unified front.

All three of the students seemed to take in his position with wonder. Perhaps they were beginning to see that this larger-than-life icon was just as odd as I knew him to be. After they indulged in their reflex to gawk, they too closed rank.

As soon as Near opened his mouth to begin his explanation, he was beat to the punch by Mello.

"We're the vigilante you're looking for," he blurted. I was beginning to think that his name wasn't at all indicative to his nature. Despite the situation, he didn't look at all bothered by the declaration.

At least, not until he was elbowed in the ribs by the red-head. "Real smooth, Mells," he muttered. "That's not exactly what he meant to say."

"No, it is not," Near picked up. "What he should have said was that up until the murders took place, we _were_ the vigilante. We have come to you now because we don't want to be held responsible for the most recent development."

This was not good. L sat stock-still in his chair, eyes flickering back and forth between the three boys. "I'm going to need you to elaborate immediately."

They all started talking at once, in varying degrees of composure. Mello, as I had expected, was the loudest, and while the redhead struggled to get his own point across, Near hardly seemed to notice that the other two were talking.

I only let it go on for a moment before calling for order. "Alright, alright!" I snapped. "I need silence from all of you. You're only making things worse."

Mello was quick to rise in his own defense, but never got out anything intelligible. The red-head, whose name I still didn't know, had a hand wrapped around his face, silencing him. At this point I could identify him as Mello's handler, and idly I thought that I didn't envy his position.

Near took this opportunity to step up again and explain. "It is as I said before; up until the murders relating to the sex ring, we had been the ones acting as your vigilante."

L looked skeptical. "The three of you worked together?" It was evident from his tone of voice that we were more likely to see them on opposing sides of the board.

"Something like that…" the red-head muttered. He still had an arm around Mello. Maybe he was more like a muzzle and leash than a handler.

"So you _did_ set the place on fire?" I interjected.

Mello began struggling again, and with a burst of strength he ripped away the hand that was palming his face. "For a perfectly good reason! And it's not like we killed anyone- that night or in any event previous," he insisted.

"He speaks the truth," Near confirmed. "There were never more than moderate injuries to anyone involved in these escapades."

L stared all three of them down. There is only noise in the room once he decides that he needs more sugar to cope with this catastrophe. A hand reached over into the bowl of candy. Instead of taking one or two, he paused for a moment before returning the entire bowl to his lap. He took three candies, unwrapped them, and tossed them straight into his mouth one after another.

His next words came out garbled as the candy jumbled inside his mouth. "My original thought was that this vigilante was in fact a student here. I decided against this possibility when I saw how conspicuous and irresponsible setting fire to an establishment was."

The three of them then had the decency to hang their heads in shame.

"We concede that our actions were ill-thought out and an unnecessary draw of attention," Near admitted.

Mello separated himself from the group and started a pace to the other side of the room. "I won't apologize," he insisted. "Yeah, it was a dangerous and stupid idea, and most definitely a blatant disregard for the rules of Wammy's." He stopped pacing, but stood tall and firm. "I was the one who risked my life by going in there and I don't regret it for a second. We helped people; isn't that what Whammy's is preparing us for?" Mello sent a harsh look in Near's direction. "We thought that this was important enough to work together for. That means something, doesn't it? I mean, I can hardly tolerate that know-it-all sheep boy, but I was willing to suffer his presence for the good of humanity," he growled. Walking back over to the red-head, he leaned aggressively on his shoulder.

"Admittedly, you still did need some convincing though," the boy said, prodding a finger under his goggles to scratch his eye.

"I took one for the team," insisted Mello.

L tilted his head as he watched their exchange. We were all brought back to attention when he crunched down on the candies.

"That's not good for your teeth," I scolded.

He ignored me and addressed his legacies once more. "Indeed it was a very foolish thing to do. However, I find it pointless to hold it against you when one of my greatest hopes came to fruition because of it. In fact, I never would have anticipated it becoming more than an unsubstantiated aspiration."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "What are you talking about?"

"As you know, Near and Mello both have an expressed interest in replacing me someday," he started.

L was right. At this moment, I was face to face with his _replacements_. It was one thing when I was on the plane hearing that they existed somewhere in the world. It was another to see that they were standing here, just about ready to replace him. I wondered if they thought he was expendable too, but held my tongue. It was difficult to do with what he said next.

"During the Kira case, I was more pressured than usual to pick an heir to my title. Many, including myself, didn't anticipate my survival through this ordeal," he said to no one in particular. He turned to face Near and Mello once more. "You both have your strengths, but you also have weaknesses. To be honest, upon the event of my death, I didn't think either of had the capability to pick up where I left off and bring Kira to justice." His blunt words coupled with an unwavering stare made the words sound all the more harsh.

Near's shoulders fell and his gaze was once again directed to the floor, but other than that he did not react. Perhaps he accepted the truth of L's words. In all honesty, he perhaps felt more of a sense of failure in his duty than actual shame.

Mello, by contrast, was shaking in anger.

L spoke again before the boy could express himself. "As such, it had been my desire for the two of you to work together," he explained. "It seems like a cop-out, but it is the most logical choice. Thus I believe punishing you will only serve to deter this behavior." He reached to grab more candy from the bowl, but I snatched it away before his fingers even touched it.

"Are you saying that you're just going to let them get away with it," I demanded, holding the bowl in the air.

His gaze followed the candy as he reached for it. "I never said they wouldn't be punished, only that _I_ wasn't going to be the one to punish them."

"We're going to be punished?!" Mello screeched. "I had to wear short-shorts and put pudding balloons in my shirt!"

I snorted. The red-head burst out laughing.

He laughed so hard that he doubled over and fell to his knees.

"Yeah, laugh it up asshole," he hissed. "I like you better on your knees, anyway."

This only made the other boy laugh harder. By this point, the kid's joyous howling sounded more like sobbing.

Even through the commotion it occurred to me that we would need to get his statement. If our vigilante and psychopath weren't the same person, then we had less information than we thought we did. I brought this to the room's attention.

"You need to tell us everything that happened that night," I told him, separating myself from L to sit in my own chair.

Mello gestured to his friend whose shoulders were still hunched over and heaving. "This chuckle-hut was there too," he informed.

"And we'll get to him," I assured, crossing my arms and leaning back into my chair. "But since you're this 'blonde girl' our victims have been talking about, I really want to know just what your role was in all of this."

"Start from the beginning," L instructed. "The _very_ beginning."

"We wanted practical experience," Near began.

"Yeah," Mello agreed. "Wammy's is all about instilling in us skills that we'll need to make the world go 'round. All of the 'practical experience' we're offered is very clinical and sheltered though." He shifted his weight to one foot and reached into his back pocket. "It's not enough."

"You were bored," L inquired.

Near lifted a finger to his hair and twirled a lock around it. "Practice in a controlled setting is both understandable and logical-"

Mello cut in again. "But there are no stakes, no pressure. We don't get cases that haven't already been solved. It's not realistic," he reasoned, pulling a chocolate bar out from behind him.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't judge me," he responded quietly, brows furrowing in annoyance.

"We did not feel we were being challenged," Near concluded.

L slid his hands up over his knees. "Did you bring this issue to Roger?"

"Yes," Near answered.

"He just gave us harder cases," Mello said, voice laden in spite, through a mouthful of chocolate.

"So you teamed up to become a vigilante," L mused.

"To be fair," the red-head said, finally pulling himself together and up off the floor. "I'm just here to keep Mello from doing anything life-threateningly stupid." With his arm he moved the goggles up to his forehead and wiped away the trapped tears.

I'd nearly forgotten that he was here. More so than the other two, he seemed content just to observe. In my mind this cemented him as Mello's handler, not that he hadn't said as much himself.

"It wasn't quite that way at first," Mello clarified. "We started off by just leaving anonymous tips for the police so that they could do all the work."

"But as things tend to do, they escalated," Near added.

This was starting to look familiar. Had the case not tread down this path where their mantle had been taken up by some psychopath, it might have very well been them who amped up their game. I, of all people, knew that the right combination of boredom and wanting to make a difference could lead a person down a road they wouldn't want to get off of.

"And it escalated to you setting a building on fire," I pointed out.

"You don't have to remind us," Mello whined. "We were there!"

L brought a nail to his mouth and mumbled. "How did you cause the fire to spread so quickly?"

"Molotov cocktails and a whole lot of Listerine," the red-head said with a grin, setting himself down on the end of the bed.

Near rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"You weren't there with them were you?" I questioned. That small boy had no business in that part of town.

He looked incredulous for a moment before answering. "No, I remained here on the chance that someone would come looking for them. Logically, considering our relationship, everyone knows that I would never cover for them. Thus they would not question any false information I'd give." Upon giving his statement he lowered himself to the floor and pulled one knee to his chest.

It was odd to see just how much like L these kids were without ever having spent any time with him. I could see L reflected in Near's eyes and in the way he sat. There was L in the ravenous way Mello ate chocolate. And this red-headed kid… Despite his goggles and bright red hair, he could be physically unremarkable and downright unnoticeable, much like L himself was.

I let my gaze wander over all three of them again, taking them in for what they were. However, they weren't a mystery, first and foremost, like I had anticipated. They, unlike L, didn't seem to embody anything. They had their similarities, yes, but they would never quite be L. They were so much like him, yet completely different.

With hints of both affection and disdain I noted, _these kids were weird._

L returned his attention to Mello. "Take us through that night. What did you do once you left Wammy's?"

"We stole a car," Mello said proudly.

"Admittedly not the best decision," muttered the red-head with a smirk.

Mello's expression suddenly turned wide-eyed and strained. "There was no other way," he groaned. "The cabs were going to charge us £240 one way!" At least he had some idea of what was unacceptable.

He started chuckling once more. "Some poor schmuck's car definitely smells like smoke and hookers now."

"It took two thorough showers to get the stink out of my hair," Mello grumbled.

His friend choked and hunched over with his knuckles to his mouth.

He was ignored and Mello continued. "Once we got close, I just wandered down the street until some asshole picked me up- quite literally. He put me in a back room with some other dude and I set off the smoke bomb that was in my purse." He started to pace again, as if the movement would help him to remember each detail. "When he was good and distracted I clobbered him over the head. And thus I began the rescue mission," he exclaimed with a dramatic gesture. He went on to describe dragging some men out and either tying them up or knocking them unconscious. He never mentioned the little girl he saved. "When all was said and done I booked it down the street and we drove off again," he finished.

L did not look pleased. I didn't need to guess why. It was one thing to be aware of what went on. Knowing, in detail, the extent of danger your students put themselves through was a whole other problem entirely.

"There were so many things that could have gone wrong," he said monotonously. Then cut right to the chase. "I'm legitimately surprised you're not dead."

All three of them paled considerably.

"It was a very rash and unnecessary thing you did."

"It's not like you don't put yourself in danger all the time," Mello pointed out.

"I don't know what impression of this job you're under, but I am rarely on the front lines. Most of my work is done behind a computer screen," he explained, taking a candy wrapper and crinkling it between his thumb and forefinger. "In the hundreds of cases I have taken, I can count on one hand-"

I coughed into my hand, interrupting him and gave him a look. _Only if you're excluding the Kira case._

"I can count on two hands," he rectified, "how many times I have directly interacted with a case."

Something seemed to occur to Mello just then. He stood up straighter and his gaze zeroed in on me. After a moment of intense scrutiny he asked, "If he's L, then who are you supposed to be?"

"His nutritionist," I quipped.

L smirked. "I just elect to ignore the majority of Light-kun's suggestions."

The red-head briefly glanced up from the game he had taken out again. "I buy it," he offered.

L became serious once more. "So you three confirm that you had nothing to do with the murders?"

They all nodded in an aggressive fashion -except for Near, of course, who merely offered a small incline of his head.

"It was never our intention to take things to the point of murder," Near affirmed. "That is not justice."

L turned to his desk and picked up the discarded cell phone. "I will call Watari and Roger now. They will expect you in his office. Do not get lost or take any detours on the way there," he told them with a stone-faced expression.

I extracted myself from my chair and walked to the door, intending to escort them out. Mello and Near, not wishing to waste any more of L's valuable time, quickly followed.

The red-head lagged behind, trying to stow his gaming device back into a pocket.

As he made to pass the threshold and join the other two, I stopped him. "What do they call you anyway?" Perhaps it wasn't odd to go without introducing oneself here, I reasoned.

"Matt," he replied simply. Then with a sly grin added, "Can't believe it didn't come up. It's Mello's favorite word." He was promptly pulled into the hallway by the collar of his stripped shirt.

I snickered and closed the door, watching them walk away.

"That was enlightening," I said to L, striding back to my seat next to him.

"Very much so, Light-kun," he agreed quietly. Saying nothing further, he vigorously pulled on his thumb nail with his teeth.

In a brief stroke of empathy I said, "Tell me what's bothering you."

"Those three did not have a hand in killing our victims," he started, locking eyes with me. "While this is a very good thing…" he trailed off.

"It means that someone else did murder them. And we have no leads," I finished. Leaning back in my chair, I sighed.

"This is a most frustrating week," L said to no one but himself.


	6. Ashes to Ashes

_I'd like to thank my beta_ _ **Vicious Ventriloquist**_ _for their continued efforts in making this story comprehensible._

* * *

We did not fool ourselves into believing that the week would not get worse. Quite the contrary, we could not have faked surprise when it did.

And it did the very next morning.

"We could have stopped this," I muttered. My eyes were weighted shut and the heel of my hand had become permanently fixed to my jaw hours ago. We'd been over the evidence all night and that still hadn't saved her.

"The fault lies with the forensics department. They have truly "dropped the ball" on this one," L deadpanned, complete with air quotes.

According to new information, the objects used to violate each victim had not been purchased by this new vigilante. They had belonged to Angela Walker, the longtime mistress of the man who had owned the illicit establishment.

Her fingerprints hadn't been identified until six o'clock this morning. When the authorities arrived at her home fifteen minutes later, she had already been dead for some time.

"Why," I emphasized, "did they not process the evidence faster?" In an aggressive fashion I rubbed my hand up the length of my face and let it dig into the crevice between my nose and brow.

"They must have ignorantly assumed that there wasn't more to the crime scene," he reasoned.

Walker's murder had taken place hours after the other three. We deduced that the objects had been used as a clue to lead us to her as a potential victim.

I found it odd that two of the crime scenes would point to her and not progress in a linear fashion from one victim to the next. It was because of this that we were still going over the evidence.

After this oversight regarding the fingerprints, L held little remaining faith in the officers to configure the necessary information. Thus he cautiously decided to send both Watari and I to "recollect" evidence.

"You can't be serious about sending me along. I haven't gotten more than an hour of sleep since yesterday's revelation and now you want me to examine a crime scene?" I turned to fully face him, intending to get a good explanation for my exile.

"Several crime scenes," he corrected.

I gritted my teeth. "How do you even trust me to leave, what with those prison suicides?"

Without looking at me, he answered, "Watari is perfectly capable of watching you. And you _will_ be kept quite busy. I expect you to find something that the police missed," he pressured, lifting a cup of sugar with a spot of coffee to his lips. From his stiff posture and set stare at the computer screen, I could tell that he was back to not looking at me.

Crossing my arms, I combated this by refusing to take my eyes off of him. "You don't want me here, is that it?"

"Not precisely," he started, his tone apprehensive. "However, I have business that has gotten away from me. I would prefer to conduct it alone." He immersed himself deeper into his screen's contents, not bothering to elaborate. "I know I can count on you for this," he added with a tone of finality.

Glaring, I turned and left the room without so much as a goodbye. I would not let it get to me that I missed the doorknob once on the way out. Hopefully, I wasn't too tired to properly collect evidence. I _was_ going to find something- not because L wanted me to, but to spite him. He could keep me up all night out of some sick sense of retribution- checking and rechecking the evidence, but he would not stop me from being an asset.

I would sleep on the way.

* * *

Walking up the steps to James Clarke's house I took a moment to rub the sleep from my eyes. It wasn't ideal that I would have to work on so little, but two hours had proved to be a functional amount in the past. If only just barely…

I stepped to the side to allow Watari to unlock the door with the provided key. "The absence of Clarke's body should be the only thing changed, right?" It was definitely a problem for the crime scene to be this corrupted. Though not even a day old, people had been in and out the entire time. We were rarely so lucky to be on the scene a short time after an incident.

"The authorities are aware of L's involvement in the sex right scandal, as you know. This is merely an extension of it. Everyone has been made aware to interfere as little as possible so as to not impede his investigation," he confirmed, allowing me to enter first.

I stepped over the threshold and immediately took note of a vague smoky odor. I crinkled my nose, already aware of what was causing the aroma.

According to the reports, his housekeeper had been the one to find his body. Clarke was unmarried, so she returned in the afternoon five days a week to make him dinner. It was this smell, she advised, that roused her suspicion. He never made dinner for himself. So it was odd that she would smell anything but the products she used to clean the floor that morning.

She found his body at approximately four in the afternoon. The third murder was likely taking place as she discovered the first.

I quickly made rounds through every room in the house, not spending more than five minutes in each. I knew that the damage was likely to be contained to his bedroom. I had to check though; there couldn't be any more oversights.

Every room was as I expected it; clean, orderly, with nothing overtly displaced. As the housekeeper hadn't been through this morning, a minute layer of dust could be seen if one looked close enough.

The house had a sterile and unlived-in air about it. Clarke didn't have many possessions, but what he did have was of the highest quality. It didn't feel like a home.

If I hadn't been aware of the fact that he kept most of his personal effects in his office, I would have thought that this house was a decoy substituted for his true dwelling.

The door to his bedroom was already open when I made to enter the room; Watari waited just behind the threshold.

The smell of burning flesh was stronger here, but I'd already grown accustomed to it. Barely in the room and standing off to one side, I took my time to take in the scene.

To the left there was a large window with the curtains closed and an armoire against the wall where I stood. To the right was the bathroom door left ajar. In the immediate center, and consuming much of the space in the room, was the bed. The bland, fallow colored sheets were smeared with the drying stains of blood and vomit. Where the stains advanced over the edge of the bed, they were accompanied by splotches and hardened puddles of white.

On my phone, I compared the scene in front of me to the pictures submitted as evidence. Most notably, I analyzed the position of the body.

In my mind's eye, I could see him bent over the edge of the bed. His wrists tied to some part of the head board kept his empty, glazed over eyes fixed on the ceiling. The slacks bunched around his ankles would have stopped his feet from moving too much.

I moved further into the room, careful not to step in any dried spots, to stand in front of the bed. Imagining Clarke's shirt torn open, I looked around the room for evidence of a weapon. An obvious bludgeon would have been collected already, but even still- none of his furniture looked like it had detachable parts.

I was thorough in my search, going so far as to check under the bed and even the sheets themselves for some sort of clue. When that yielded nothing, I checked the bathroom.

"Anything of note?" Watari inquired as I exited the bathroom.

Crossing my arms, I scanned the room once more. "Not yet." I hoped my weariness wasn't affecting my eyesight so badly that I was missing something obvious. _Perhaps if the room were brighter…_

I strode over to the window and pulled back the curtains. In the midst of doing so, I disturbed more than just the shadows. Dust flew in all directions and I raised an arm to cover my face. It wasn't the best of defenses, and soon I was hunched over coughing into the crook of the same arm.

Watari approached me from behind. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice laden with concern.

"Yeah… definitely not what I was expecting though," I explained between coughs. Once I'd gotten a hold of myself, I knelt down further to inspect the window sill. Though light in color, the sill was covered, not in dust, but in ash.

I looked closer, trying to read more into this new bit of evidence. Aside from the faint streaks created by the movement of the curtains, there was no other intimation, no clues. It was just a layer of ash.

"Does this mean anything to you?" I asked Watari, backing away to let him get a closer look.

He knelt down to collect a sample and shook his head. "Nothing in particular. To use a metaphor, perhaps this new vigilante sees himself reborn from the fire that my students started."

Immediately seeing where his train of thought was going, I mused. "It could be one of the victims. Or even a relative. The perpetrator wouldn't necessarily have to be strong, what with the sedative found in each of their systems."

I approached the window once more and snapped a picture to send to L. In true passive aggressive fashion, I attached it to a text. I asked him to arrange the procurement of the alibis of our victims and their immediate family. _Let him be the one to talk to the police_ , I thought.

* * *

The second and third houses were much of the same. By the time I left the third victim's house, I was tired of seeing suspicious fluids dried onto every surface.

Angela's home was the last stop. After crawling around Robert Davies' house for nearly an hour looking for an item that didn't belong to him, I was ready to make it quick. It was frustrating enough when my search proved fruitless. Nothing of Angela's had been found anywhere in the house. I didn't want to admit that our psycho might have been screwing with the authorities. Though I wanted to admit to missing something even less.

The only commonality I had found between each place was the ash. Each of the men had one window sill in their bedroom covered in ash. I theorized that the perpetrator had used said windows to gain access to the house. Perhaps the ash was a calling card.

Upon entering the flat I made a bee-line for the bedroom. While entering her residence without being assaulted by the scent of burning flesh was a nice change of pace, I wasn't appreciating the haphazard pattern of clothes strewn across the floor.

Taking care not to tread over any of her discarded garments, I strode straight to the window. Gingerly, as so not to disturb the ash, I gripped the curtain and pulled it aside. Acting on autopilot, I bent down to take a sample of the ash, but was met with a clean sill.

"There's nothing here," I announced. Taking a step back, I turned to analyze the rest of the room.

There was far more blood at this scene than at any of the others. Once the official coroner's report came in we'd know exactly what happened. The police report painted a pretty vivid picture though. Her tongue and eyes had all been removed from her skull and subsequently she had either bled to death or drowned in her own blood. Only time would tell, but for now I had to find what those reports wouldn't tell me.

"That may be a message in and of itself," Watari suggested, coming to stand at my side.

My thoughts were interrupted by a chirping from my back pocket. Retrieving my phone, I opened the new text message.

 _Return at once._

I glared at the little screen. The message offered no explanation and certainly no consideration.

Turning to address Watari, I shoved the phone back into my pocket. "We are to "return at once"," I relayed, complete with air quotes.

He perked up at this. "He has found something."

I nearly expressed my skepticism, but caught myself just in time. L could work on a case and be angry with me simultaneously. He wouldn't disregard my reconnaissance just to get back at me.

"Maybe the vigilante came right up to the door," I joked. Exiting the bedroom I maneuvered my way through the piles of rubbish once more.

It may have been the wrong thing to say. Watari's face darkened immediately as he considered this. "The killer has already come to our doorstep in a metaphorical sense. If he does so in a literal one as well, we will have an entirely different problem."

The silence that followed his statement suggested that he was leaving something unsaid. Judging from his expression, I elected to leave it that way.

Watari seemed to have noted the change in atmosphere and sought to reverse it by offering me the door. "After you."

Watari was a good soul; I had decided this long ago. If he didn't want to say anything further, there was an adequate reason. I wouldn't pry.

I followed his lead and left Angela's flat. We walked down to the ground floor together and when he opened the last door for me, I accommodated his new tone.

Turning my attention to Watari, I quiped, "Do you think Lew's actually found something? Or has this just been a distraction for me while he prepared for drastic measures?"

He looked like he was about to answer me with a chuckle when his expression turned to one of concern. I didn't have time to question him before I collided with something on the side walk.

Or _someone_ ,as it turned out. I had totally knocked a young woman off balance. If it hadn't been for my superior reflexes she would have been pushed out into the street.

My heart raced as I registered this momentary lapse of spatial awareness. This sort of thing never would have happened before the incident. I had never been anything short of graceful. My multitasking abilities had taken a direct hit, and this was further proof of that.

I took the sudden onslaught of shame and crammed it to the back of my mind.

Righting her balance, I apologized profusely. "I am so sorry. It's all my fault; I should have been more careful."

Without a word she threw a scathing look and twisted away from me.

I watched her hurry away and took notice of the few people watching the scene from the opposite side of the road. My cheeks grew warm; this couldn't get any worse.

"Perhaps try apologizing in English next time," Watari interjected.

My entire body cringed. "Please take me back," I begged quietly.

He only chuckled in response.

* * *

Arriving back to L's room, I hid my exhaustion in aggravation. I stalked heavily over to his chair and planted my hand right on the back of it. Leaning into his space, I locked my eyes with those of his reflection's. "Any progress?" I questioned in short.

Not falling for my bait, he kept his gaze on his screen. "Yes."

I waited for him to continue, but after a minute and a half of nothing but the clicking of keys and changing of tabs, it was clear that he was not going to speak to me if he didn't have to.

"Would you be so kind as to inform me of your progress, L?" My response was formal and stringent. I did not have the patience to cope with his attitude.

"You have been gone for seven hours and forty-nine minutes," he started. "In that time I have contacted the police to both assemble alibis and warn others named in the confessions of the possible danger they face. I have also gone over the coroner's reports and listened to the tape left at Ms. Walker's crime scene." He said all this like he meant to flaunt how much more he had done today than I had.

Standing straighter, I continued to bait him. "And your personal business?"

He turned sharply to me. "Is no less personal now."

His response was so cold that I had to suppress the shivers threatening to roll over my skin. I stepped away from him. Though we've certainly had our fights over the last year, he hadn't been this standoffish since the Kira case. Considering the circumstances we now found ourselves in, it wasn't surprising that we were relapsing into such hostility. Something more was going on and the timing couldn't be worse.

I tried to see the picture that he was seeing. I tried to imagine that it was my home being threatened. That the students at risk were not only my family, but directly involved in the activities a legitimate psycho was taking credit for. I made a serious attempt to imagine how I'd feel at the possibility of a killer out for my name and blood returning to finish the job.

These were all things that I considered, but none of them made it through to me. My stomach was growling from skipping lunch to investigate the crime scenes and my head was throbbing from the all nighter we pulled looking for clues. I couldn't feel sympathy for a man who so quickly would go back to accusing me of being Kira. We had solved 109 cases together during the last six months and had utilized _seven_ different aliases. Did he think that meant nothing?

I had been marinating in my own exhaustion and frustration for too long to put up with his passive aggressive bullshit. It was one thing to fight and rough each other up a bit, but it was always worse when he would skirt around the issue.

Even after these six months, there was always something more that he wouldn't tell me. It was the occasional email that I couldn't read or a particular burner phone that I couldn't answer. It was always in these little ways that I was reminded that he didn't trust me farther than he could throw me.

Sometimes, Watari would distance himself during the day, only to come to L's side in the early hours of the morning when I should have been asleep. He would relay something to L in hushed tones, something not meant for my ears.

It was after these kinds of incidents that I would wonder if L was only keeping an eye on me. He didn't have much to worry about, being in a relationship with me. We rarely kissed, let alone expressed physical affection. He wouldn't have to give me his body to make this partnership worth my while.

Even despite this, it had always felt like he'd given more of himself to me than he'd ever done with another person. Our time together _seemed_ to be worth something to him. So what other secrets were coming between us?

I clenched my fists. "That's all you have to say to me?"

His eyes narrowed and he looked back to his screen. "Angela Walker-"

Lunging forward, I slapped my palm down over his laptop. With the machine closed he was effectively cut off from the case.

"You're angry about the prison suicides," I said evenly.

He glared at the hand keeping his laptop hostage before standing up to meet my height. Chest to chest he declared, "They were not suicides."

Immediately, I dug both hands into the front of his shirt and brought him as close to me as he could be. "I did not do this," I hissed. "I had nothing to do with this."

"And thirteen people just so happened to die the first time you are left alone!" He gripped me by the front of my shirt now. "I don't believe in coincidences."

I clutched at his collar so tight that the fabric creaked between my fingers. "Coincidences," I spat. "You _have_ been getting me out of the way! You already regret bringing me here, don't you? You don't trust me to be in your home and around your successors!" I was yelling in his face now, laying out every suspicion I had. "You wouldn't have taken me here if it wasn't necessary."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I was thrown to the floor. I landed on my back with such force that the desk shook.

Pinning my chest down, L leaned into me and snarled. "I _didn't_ want to bring you here."

Later, when I wasn't angry anymore, I was sure that his proclamation would hurt.

Curling my fingers around his arms, I squeezed. "Well I am here! And you have to deal with it." We looked each other right in the eyes for a good long time, chests heaving from exertion. "I'm not going anywhere," I growled back at him. "So take it out on me now."

L forced his knee into my sternum. "Is it not enough for the killer to mock me? Now you mock me too?"

"This is such a waste of time when I didn't do anything," I yelled.

"Thirteen people are dead," he seethed. "They had lives."

I shifted my weight only to be pushed back down again.

"The last man to die," L muttered. "I knew him." Though the look in his eyes was still one of hate, it didn't seem entirely for me. "I am the reason he was in that prison."

His confession threw me and I stopped struggling all together. I had never considered that with all the cases L took, of course he would be responsible for jailing some of the people I had eliminated with the Death Note. This one though… L insinuated that he actually _knew_ him.

"L-," I started to say.

He immediately interrupted me. "Do not offer me any more excuses." He rose from the floor, taking his knee off of my chest, but did not move to help me up.

When he returned to his chair, he ceased to move as if expecting me to fill my role before he could continue.

I got up and straightened my clothes. Wearily, I eyed my own chair, wondering if he was really going to end our fight so abruptly. When I could find no subterfuge I finally sat down.

Like a machine he began to tell me what he learned from the coroner's report and of the alibis he'd received thus far. I'd never be one to call him expressive, but he held none of his own subtle brand of zeal as he summarized the documents.

Throughout the monotony, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to grab me by my collar again and pin me to a wall. While he was not prone to mood swings, he was less likely to give up a fight before it was won. At our worst, we would fight for days before coming to a resolution; but there was always a resolution.

Even though I had something to work with, it was moot. Whoever that man from the prison was, he wasn't someone L wanted to talk about.

My attention to the details he was sharing was wavering. If we didn't get our business sorted out soon, more than the case would be at stake. It was only when he suggested that we listen to the new recording that I finally interjected.

I groaned. "Why don't you just give me the highlights?" If it was one part of this investigation that I could do without, it was those sick recordings.

"That is very inefficient," he mumbled back.

I felt the loss of my name at the end of that statement. Where before he would have teased me, he now just sounded tired.

Resting my head in my hand, I sighed. "Just get it over with."

I didn't want to listen knowing full well what would happen. Without ever hearing the tape I could say exactly what would be on it. First there would be crying.

Immediately upon pressing play I heard sniffling. None of these people ever thought that they deserved it.

Next she would ask what he wanted with her- or if the recording was a bit late she would beg.

" _Please," she whimpered. "You don't have to do this."_

 _Our killer wasted no time in replying to her. "You know that I do, Miss Walker. Now please confess."_

" _You're sick!"_

" _On the contrary; I'm in fairly good health at the moment."_

The high-pitched distortion made his voice eerily cheerful and his playful, casual tone reminded me of how L and I would speak to each other… on good days. On this particular bad day I could almost hear him on the other side of this recording.

" _Let me go you stupid, sick fuck," she shrieked._

Though we then heard her flinch, there was no sound of an impact.

" _I was going to wait to take your eyes; pain can be distracting," he explained, voice slowing. "But if you do not cooperate I have no problem with taking them now."_

" _I didn't do anything!"_

" _And that is quite the point, Miss Walker. If you saw something, you should have said something."_

The recording was oddly devoid of screaming so far. By this point on the other tapes he had begun to maim the other victims.

 _A subtle shuffling could be heard in the background before he spoke again. "I want you to tell me what you did do," he mused._

" _I made food runs," she explained with haste. "I helped them! I made sure that they had everything they needed to stay alive."_

I sighed. Her voice was shaking, rising in pitch. It was easy to see that everything she said was with the hope that it would be enough to let her live. In bad taste, I thought that he was probably threatening her with a melon-baller right about now.

 _There was a drawn out 'hmmm…' and then, aside from the deep sounds of Angela Walker's breathing, there was silence._

It was unnerving to say the least. I wondered if he was doing this solely to put any listeners on edge. He was treating these tapes almost like a performance.

Were L and I on speaking terms I would have taken the opportunity to say something witty; maybe tell him my melon baller joke, as unsavory as that would be. As this was not the case, I kept my eyes planted on the desk in front of me.

The situation was now beginning to eat me up inside. Without the killer's gravelly voice to distract me, my mind replayed the minute I was held to the floor.

" _I didn't want to bring you here."_

I had suspected as much from the beginning, but it was another thing to have it confirmed. What was our relationship really, if there was no trust between us?

 _Had there ever been trust?_

My budding despair was interrupted when the killer had mercy enough to speak.

" _Well, 'enough to stay alive' is really just the bare minimum, don't you think?"_

 _Her sobbing started anew. "No, no, no, no, no…"she muttered in continual succession._

 _The killer huffed in mock frustration. "I know, I know. Now please try not to blink."_

When the recording stopped, I looked for something to say. I decided right then not to affirm that there was really no reason for me to analyze the content. The very next thing I thought of was, "It was shorter than I expected."

He slowly turned to look at me, eyes unblinking, hand still hovering over the touchpad. "Is that all you have to say?"

I wanted to tell him that that was definitely _not_ all that I had to say. However, it was the only thing case related that could have come out of my mouth. To stall for time I righted my posture and flipped open my laptop. _Hopefully, he'll have already sent me all the relevant files._

His next words let me know that he didn't care how long I stalled. "Let me know when you have something better."

The statement was short, quick, and to the point. It also ran me right through. I could see now that we were hardly partners on this case.

I clicked absently back and forth through the files for a few minutes, waiting for my concentration to improve. _I never had these kinds of problems before I met him…_

When I came across the autopsy photos I was reminded of the conversation I had with Watari.

"Is it not at all suspicious that she has "Dust to Dust" tattooed on her lower back?" I muttered.

He looked up and considered it for a moment. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… I wonder the origins of such a saying." Stopping his thumb halfway to his mouth, he brought it back to his keyboard.

Sitting back in my chair, I decided to tell him about Watari's theory. "When we were at the first house, Watari suggested that it could be symbolic of the killer being reborn from the ashes of a fire."

"Salvation," L mused. "Fire is often used as a purifying entity." His eyes drifted wildly from one edge of the screen to the other. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust- it is a burial right."

I was aware of it in a vague sense. "Meaning that we shall return to what once was?"

"That does not make sense. There is no "what once was". Not in a way that pertains to these incidents."

I closed my eyes and reached for another clue. "Has anyone close to the victims of the sex ring been killed in a fire?"

L's reaction to the question was odd. He stiffened in his seat and the air around him seemed to pause in kind. After a moment, he leaned over his screen again. "I will look into that trail of thought."

Glancing at the picture once more, I squinted at the inflammation around the tattoo. "It's definitely fresh," I murmured to myself. _We all return to what once was…_ "It almost seems like he's taunting us… but that can't be it. That doesn't make sense," I reasoned. "It can't be personal."

At this, L sat up ram-rod straight, the rise and fall of his chest was at a dead halt. His eyes bulged and what little color he had in his face quickly vacated. In a stiff and mechanical fashion, he turned his whole upper body toward me. It was as if he were looking at me and through me simultaneously.

Not willing to risk and assumption I asked, "What is it?"

L began to breathe again, now very deeply. He looked to be thinking either a thousand things or exactly none. I hoped he wasn't going into shock.

When he still didn't answer me, I took my chances and leaned out of my chair toward him. Conscientious of my pace, I took each of his shoulders in hand.

"L. Tell me what you're thinking."

His eyes focused on me again, but his breathing remained deep. It was another half of a minute before he spoke. "I don't know how to explain what it is I'm thinking."

Tightening my grip on his arms I said, "You need to try."

His eyes were glazed and he shook his head. "I don't believe in coincidences."

He wasn't making any sense. "I am aware of that. What does that have to do with any of this?"

L looked me straight in the eyes and told me, "He was the only one to die of a heart attack."

Brow furrowing, I made plain of my confusion. "Who died of a heart attack?"

"The last prisoner, Light-kun," he explained. His voice sounded as if he were on the edge of an epiphany.

I took my hands away from him and sat back in my chair. "I still don't follow," I affirmed. We were talking about Angela Walker one minute and now we were back to the prison deaths. I didn't see where he was going with this train of thought, though I could appreciate that he wasn't blaming me once more. It sounded as if he was coming up with a new theory, and if it didn't involve me I was more than happy to keep it going in that direction. "If by chance someone has gotten Kira's power, his manner of death goes along with what we know so far." If one wasn't capable of fulfilling their written instructions they would simply die of a heart attack.

"Yes, but this _particular_ prisoner died in a manner not similar to the others. This alone can be considered suspicious," he professed. Looking at me with a more grounded gaze he continued. "I have been angry with the handlers for confusing the paperwork. They cremated him without allowing me to examine the body beforehand. I was so caught up with the manner of his death- presumably by Kira- that I took the explanation for what it was. I deemed it to be an error, a lapse in judgment, a common human failing from an abundance of carelessness and stupidity."

Upon ending his monologue, he must have assessed that I still had no idea what he was talking about. His eyes narrowed and he addressed me like it was astounding I couldn't keep up. "The method of death was a distraction, Light-kun. Try to stay on top of this."

I grabbed the arms of my chair and turned it till I was facing him. Taking a deep breath, I pinched the space between my eyes. "Let me get this straight… A man _somehow_ gave himself a heart attack… as a distraction? A distraction for what exactly?"

It would seem my slow words did not reflect well upon my reasoning ability. When it was finally obvious to L that I wasn't seeing what he was seeing, in spite of himself he was able to draw up the courtesy to explain it to me.

"I suppose given the lack of context you wouldn't come to the same conclusions as I," he conceded. "The last inmate to die perished of a heart attack rather than of suicide. You are correct when you say that this falls in line with Kira's suspected abilities. It is common knowledge that I worked the Kira case and that it came to no real conclusion. Hearing of this incident, what is the first thing one would think?"

Immediately, though reluctantly, I answered, "Kira. The one death by heart attack makes the other twelve more suspicious."

He nodded and reached a hand over to his desk intent on sifting through his candy bowl. "As he was a criminal, this was a predictable development in his incarceration. Every piece of evidence points to Kira. After this highly suspicious death, all other subsequent actions would seem less suspicious or irrelevant by comparison." He pulled three candies out of the bowl and unwrapped one at random.

"I still don't see what you're getting at," I told him. "So he dies of a heart attack and his body gets cremated. How is that a distraction?"

Though L brought the candy to his lips, he did not eat it. "That is precisely why it is clever, Light-kun. We followed the natural chain of logic. His death by heart attack was the most suspicious occurrence and it was the detail I would predictably fixate upon."

He rubbed the candy on the outside of his lips before allowing his tongue to dart out and lave at it. "The method of his death was to distract me from the following disappearance of his body."

"You said he was cremated," I reminded him.

His resulting grin was of the bitter variety. "And what proof do I have of that? Paperwork? The word of some mortician? There was a reason I wanted to see the body myself."

It was understandable now why he would be suspicious, but for the life of me I couldn't see what brought on this sudden realization.

Sitting up straight, I popped my back. "Why has this just come to you now? You were dead set on Kira being responsible for those deaths." Despite the apparent personal nature of his involvement with this inmate, I couldn't let the issue drop now. This was an opportunity clear myself of the blame and I had to make sure he absolved me.

His face fell and became stoic once more. He regarded me for a moment as if to decide just how much to tell me. I was excited yet apprehensive to learn of this man who had so obviously had a profound effect on L.

To his credit, he didn't break eye contact with me. "When you spoke of family members of the victims perhaps losing loved ones to fires he came to mind. It was when you were contemplating the nature of Miss Walker's tattoo, however, that I too devised its purpose."

I didn't speak, but waited for him to continue. His voice was so quiet that I didn't want to drown out his explanation with my impatience.

"You mentioned that it appeared to be a taunt- of a personal nature. This man lived to taunt me." At this, L turned to glare back at his screen. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," he muttered. "We shall return whence we came." He paused again and looked at me. "He was raised here at Wammy's same as I was. He was to be my 'backup'."

Though it was left unsaid, I understood that by 'backup' he meant his own replacement- likely the first.

L, seemingly lost in the memory, brought what remained of his thumb nail to his teeth. "The last time I saw him… it was less than half a week after he set himself on fire."

Any hunch in my body immediately straightened. _Set_ _ **himself**_ _on fire?_ That was crazy. Normal people didn't do that. I couldn't imagine anyone who lived here being capable of such an act. These were kids and I couldn't help but think that this man was one as well.

My hand went to his remaining one. "Who was he?"

L turned his hand over to lock with mine. "We called him 'Beyond Birthday."


	7. BB, in the Kitchen, with a Rope

_Hot diggity dayum! This is the fastest I have ever gotten out a new chapter. This one just poured right out of me and demanded to be written. I'd have to say that I'm super pleased with how it turned out. A super special thanks goes out to my beta **Vicious Ventriloquist** , who totally gets both me and this story. Their editing skills are out of this world._  
 _When all is said and done with this chapter, tell me how you feel! I'd love for all of you to click that review button and tell me what you think and what you want to see next._

* * *

"We called him 'Beyond Birthday'."

It was a name I had never heard before. Nor was it something that sounded like one.

Addressing the scrunched look on my face L said, "That wasn't his real name of course, but it was the only one he ever gave. We never found out who he was before he came to Wammy's."

I leaned closer to him. "There were no records, at all? Did Watari just pick him up off the street?"

He gnawed at his nail more aggressively now. "No, he was in a different orphanage when Watari came across him. We were told that he went there of his own free will after his parents died. Beyond would not go into any more detail than that."

L looked as though he were staring at something far away. The hand in mine was slack and I hardly noticed him breathe as he continued to recall the past. "He was an odd child, but no more odd than the rest of us. Many children that come to Wammy's have behavioral or social issues. It wasn't difficult to overlook his… eccentricities."

I shifted forward in my seat until my knees were touching the edge of his chair. Witnessing for myself what the students had been like so far, I could see how his strangeness might have been overlooked.

"After one of the other children, A, committed suicide his… misconduct became much more apparent," he continued.

I interjected, wanting to get a feel for his character. "You're saying he was really affected by A's death… Do you mean he started to act out?" That didn't seem so out of the ordinary to be honest. Depending on what age they were, this just seemed like a natural reaction for a child who had witnessed death. Especially so if the victim had been someone he cared about.

"He did act out a bit, yes, but he wasn't affected in the way you're probably thinking. After A's death we completely refurbished the way we dealt with the children's mental health. Every student is now required to see a counselor at least quarterly. We keep a much closer eye on them."

"So while he didn't change drastically-," I started to say.

"The counselor picked up on the red flags," L finished. "Things we thought were a bit off about him were apparently a much bigger deal. Particularly in regards to how much he scared the younger children."

This explanation gave me an uneasy feeling. I could sense that he was giving me a very abridged version of this 'Beyond Birthday's' story. "Was he the sort to mistreat animals?" I inquired. I knew that was one of the more obvious signs of psychopathy, an indication that a person felt no remorse.

L sat back in his seat, though he didn't let go of my hand. "In a shocking turn of events, no. He particularly liked animals- not that they felt the same, however."

Perhaps I shouldn't have been interrupting so much, but I knew that if I didn't ask, he wouldn't tell. "Then what was so alarming?"

Without hesitations he replied, "He had a very macabre sense of humor. He would often take pranks too far, not thinking to stop even when the younger children would cry. He didn't seem to find anything wrong with it as long as no one was truly hurt. It did not deter him that no one else shared his fascination with death."

Again, assessing my facial expression, he decided to elaborate. "After A, he would often fake his own death- amongst other things. He was curious to the reactions he could get with his different methods of execution. Even I thought it was in bad taste," he deadpanned. "but by this point I was often out of the country solving cases."

I could tell that he thought I was judging him. I _didn't_ blame him for the way this kid turned out though. As someone who was much younger, what authority did he really have- L or not? It was on Watari and Roger who housed these kids. They had a responsibility and they dropped the ball.

"As you can guess," L went on, "it was likely a cry for attention. B wanted very much to be on level with me. He sought my attention over all else when he attended Wammy's."

"I thought you said that none of the students knew who you were?" It was strange that this student in particular would pick up on his identity when no one else did.

"B is among the reasons that students are no longer privy to my identity." L took a deep breath and sighed in a long and exaggerated fashion. "B is a copy-cat. Over time he has transformed himself to my likeness. He went out of his way to study not only my appearance, but my mannerisms as well." He paused for moment and then added, "The end result was very unsettling."

I squeezed his hand. I couldn't imagine essentially having an evil clone running around and terrorizing people in my image. It was probably hard for him to come back here with Beyond looking like him. I didn't think the children would react well to that.

"He wanted to be me," L muttered. "but he was like a caricature." It was now that he let go of me, reaching over to his laptop. He turned the screen away from me and typed something I couldn't see. "When it was finally clear that Watari and I couldn't allow him to take my place, he left Wammy's." When he was done typing, he turned the screen back toward me and away from himself. "He left to surpass me by creating a case that I wouldn't be able to solve."

Leaning forward, I moved the laptop closer. Across the top of a news article it read " **Wara Ningyo Murders"**.

The article went into detail about the clues he left for the police, which were both sent to the station and left on and around the victims. It noted the three victims and the suffering they must have lived through. One of which I noticed was only thirteen. Beyond Birthday had offered his own services as a private detective to the families of the victims. He used this cover to stay close to the crime scenes. He intended to leave himself as the last victim under the guise of 'Rue Ryuzaki' by setting himself on fire and burning to death. The origin of the case's namesake came from the wara ningyo dolls left at each of the crime scenes. The article was concluded with a special thanks to one Naomi Misora, an off duty FBI agent who worked with L to solve the cases.

I felt like I was going to be sick. It seemed as if neither of our pasts could stay in the past. I never thought I would be hearing of her again.

 _And Rue Ryuzaki…_ This must have been where he got the name. He often absorbed the names of other detectives that he 'defeated'.

I looked at him now and he appeared so despondent. Putting Beyond away wouldn't have been a victory for him. In fact, I would place the "Wara Ningyo Murders" as one of his greatest failings. One of his own and most promising students turned away from his philosophies and became the one thing that L, both as a symbol and a person, strived to eliminate.

Even the Kira case, though a large public failing to some, had a better turn-out than this. Where B had murdered because of L, I had stopped.

I pushed the laptop away and turned to him. "And you think that he's still alive?" L was rarely wrong about this sort of thing. In this instance however, I hoped he was being paranoid. Of course I didn't want him to go back to blaming me for the prison deaths. The existence of another Death Note in the world was also not something I'd like to explore. Cases of such a personal nature were always devastating though. No matter the turnout of this one, B would either be a murderer once more- or dead.

He rolled his discarded candies between his fingers. "Maybe; this is exactly the kind of thing that he would do- and has done before." To make his point he nodded toward the screen before closing it. Lifting himself off the chair he said, "We need to inform Watari and Roger of the possibility. It is one thing for murders to be committed across an ocean, but if these really are B, they are much too close to home."

* * *

Roger looked like he hated this job. His scrunched expression made me think that had he been alone in this office, he would be banging his head on the desk and crying. He was pale, tired, and drawn. No elaboration was needed on his part to know just how stressful managing a mansion full of geniuses really was. Needless to say, he was not Beyond Birthday's biggest fan.

Even with Roger's obvious disdain for the man, Watari was the first to break the silence created by L's announcement. "Am I right assume that Light is already aware of the full extent of the situation?"

I took this opportunity to insert myself into the conversation. "Yes, he's already given me adequate background information."

Watari nodded, looking unsurprised by the insinuation that L was all but stingy with the facts. "We must contact the prison and find out all we can about his supposed cremation."

Getting up from the large desk he was seated behind, Roger walked across the room to the double doors. "I'm putting this school on lock-down."

No one disagreed with him.

"Do try to be subtle though," Watari advised him. "The last thing we want is for any of the students to start snooping around."

Roger nodded absently, and with a waving gesture he vacated the room with haste.

Turning back to address the both of us, Watari said, "I will contact the police station- see if any of the victims or their families have noticed anyone with his description."

I was thoroughly disturbed. That they even considered he would try to attach himself to the victim's families again was a testament to his character. It was a sick sort of thing that even I would never be able to understand.

"That would be wise," L agreed. "Light-kun and I will consult with the prison staff and anyone involved in the other deaths."

As we were making our way out the door Watari told us, "I will come see you if I find anything."

L didn't bother to reply, but before he could shut the door I managed a simple thank you to Watari.

"You are very polite to him," L pointed out as we walked down the hall.

I looked at him and wondered if the reason wasn't obvious. "It's the least anyone can do. He does so much for us."

He didn't have anything to say to that either so we walked in silence.

I let my gaze linger on his hunched form. He was back to keeping in step with me instead of five paces ahead. L wasn't one for apologies, so this would have to be affirmation enough. I smiled nonetheless; this would suffice. Most of our communication was done in a subtle manner, but now more than ever I thought it was time for us to have a talk. There were things that needed to be said that couldn't be expressed solely through gestures and looks.

When this whole ordeal was over, I was determined to have this talk with him.

Upon entering the room L and I were met with three familiar faces. Two of them belonging to bodies splayed across the bed, and another occupying L's chair. I noticed fondly that he had one leg tucked tight to his chest.

Mello sat up abruptly, a cuff in each hand and a long metal chain piled in his lap. "Is this a gay thing?"

Without hesitation the red-head lying next to him replied, "If it was, you of all people would know." He never looked up from the game he was supporting precariously above his face.

I looked to L, wondering just how to handle this, and he already had a thumb nail to his mouth.

"To what do I own this unexpected visit?" he inquired whilst walking over to seize my chair.

The three were quiet and glanced at one another as if to silently decide who would speak.

Near, who was fiddling with the hem of his shirt decided to take the lead, "We know you believe B is back."

I stood up straighter and crossed my arms in front of my body.

Though Matt and Mello still handled the game and handcuffs respectively, they were much more serious now. Matt slowly pushed himself up to sit against the headboard.

L's gaze between them was unwavering. "How is it that you are becoming privy to all this information?"

Matt spoke up, sliding his fingers along the strap of his goggles. "Everyone seems to underestimate the power of listening at a door."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Roger had probably taken measures to secure his office from more sophisticated means, never thinking that despite being geniuses they were still children. Children often tried the simplest approach to a problem before escalating the solution.

L didn't find it as amusing. "The possibility of B's return does not explain why you are here." Gazing at them one by one, he reached behind himself to the candy he had left on the table earlier.

Mello's eyes widened as he leaned away from the headboard. "Is there any chocolate?"

Slowly, L unwrapped one of the candies. I nearly laughed again when he brought the tiny morsel of sugar to his lips at a snail's pace. "There might be." Then he added after a pause, "If you tell us what business you have here." His toes wiggled on the edge of the chair in amusement.

As serious as L looked right now, he was enjoying himself. I could tell that he liked his heirs.

Mello leaned even farther across the bed, as if he were about to take to his knees and crawl straight to L. "We want to help obviously."

"Help," I interjected. Pushing myself away from the entrance I moved to stand closer to the bed. "If B is really the one responsible for all of these murders, what makes you think you should be involved?"

This must have been the wrong thing to say because all at once everyone's attention closed in on me. The only warning for the impending shitstorm I got was the sigh L always gave me before I was about to be chastised. In my peripheral I could see him shake his head and deposit another piece of candy into his mouth.

Handcuffs forgotten behind him, Mello crawled with vigor over to me. It shook the bed enough that Matt had to hold onto the bed-side table to avoid falling off.

On his knees, he got far too close to my face. "You've gotta be fucking me!"

"Mello…" L began, but was drowned out immediately.

"No! He doesn't get to come in here and criticize our capabilities when he'd never even heard of Wammy's a week ago." He affixed me with a harsh glare. "I don't give a damn where you came from, but we've been here. We have been trained from day one to do this. We've been solving cases of our own both with and without help from the school. Don't you dare tell us that this is too dangerous! We were the ones who had to go to school with B!" The more he shouted, the closer he got. When the distance between our bodies was insignificant, he grabbed me by the collar to bring me down to his height. It seemed like I was getting manhandled by everyone today.

He snarled over his shoulder. "Back me up here, Matt."

For the first time since we'd met, I saw him put down his game. In a very calculated move he slid off of the bed and walked around to place himself between me and both L and Mello. Or as close as he could get, with there being no space between Mello and I.

Addressing all of us he said, "Mello has a point. If you want to get technical, we have more experience with him anyway. Less of the murdery sort, mind you, but he's always been a very particular brand of freak." Crossing his arms, I saw that he was attempting to stifle a shiver.

Mello loosened his hold on my shirt. Looking over my shoulder to L he said, "Matt and I are nearly fifteen and I'm willing to bet that you were a hell of a lot younger when you started. It's time to give us a real case- something with stakes."

L regarded the three, quiet but for the candy clacking against his teeth. "I can see the logic in your request." Turning his attention to the boy in his seat he asked, "What do you think, Near?"

He was absently twirling a lock of his hair and gazing at L's closed laptop. "I believe that Matt is right. Mello is particularly familiar with B and his experience will be an asset."

Even if his hands were not still at my throat I wouldn't have asked for an elaboration. From what I had heard about B so far, Mello had every reason to not want to talk about it.

"He's an absolute sicko," Mello growled. "The best thing we could do in our lives is put him away."

"Here, here," added Matt.

Mello detached himself from me and slapped a hand down on Matt's shoulder. "You always have my back," he told him in a serious voice.

"And your front too, most likely," quipped Near.

I couldn't believe this. The small sheep-child just made a dirty joke. Was there no innocence left in this school? After barely a second of consideration, I reasoned that no, there was not.

Ignoring Near, Mello turned back to L. "So, what about it, L?"

"I suppose it can't hurt," he agreed. Then after a pause, "as long as you remain out of sight."

This must have been fair because none of them kicked up a fuss. "All three of you will go to the Case Room and I will send Roger to debrief you shortly. Do not let me down." L brought the bowl of sweets to his lap and dug his hand to the bottom. Upon pulling out as much as he could fit in his palm he added. "Have some candy before you leave; it stimulates brain function."

Mello jumped at the opportunity to not only be gifted with sweets, but to receive them from L himself. Before anyone else could interfere, he deftly picked each piece of chocolate out of the pile.

Matt grabbed a couple at random before being dragged from the room. Their departure was dramatized by Mello's hopeful mutterings of the chocolate to come.

Even when we could no longer hear them in the hallway, Near was still seated in L's place.

"Is there something you need, Near?" I asked him.

Instead of answering me, he turned to look at the bed… and subsequently the handcuffs. Rising from the chair, he looked back at me. "I have just decided against asking. Just know that I am suspicious," he replied ambiguously.

I glared at him as he turned around to bid L goodbye and select a single piece of candy from his hand.

When he was gone I asked L for my seat back.

"I am already seated; it makes little sense for you to not simply take my chair," he told me, depositing the remaining sweets back into the bowl.

It wasn't worth it to argue, so I grabbed my laptop and slid his over to him. Taking a seat, I asked, "What's the 'Case Room'?"

Rifling through his pocket with one hand and logging back onto his laptop with the other, he answered. "The top three students are assigned cases to solve outside of their normal course work. Often they are cases that I have solved previous. Sometimes they are live cases from various police organizations across the world." He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open in the same motion. "The Case Room is where they are required to work on the cases. As there can be sensitive information, we prefer to keep it contained."

Pressing down on a number for speed-dial, L held the phone to his ear and began to dig in another pocket. He pulled out another phone, an odd looking one that I'd rarely seen and had never been permitted to answer.

He turned away from me when the phone to his ear picked up. "Watari, once you have procured all of the security footage from the prison, have Roger take it down to the Case Room."

There was a pause during which I assumed Watari was answering and then L spoke again. "That is correct. They are capable of reviewing it and this saves us time." He paused for another moment and then with a final, "Good," he closed the phone.

To me he said, "Watari will be sending us the contact information of everyone who came into contact with the thirteen prisoners the day of and after, or had a substantial role in their stay. I anticipate my heirs having more to add to this list."

I thought about all the people we were going to have to follow up on and was immensely grateful to Matt, Mello, and Near. Considering all of the cameras that the prisoners would appear on, there was likely fifty-sixty relevant hours of footage. If B really was still alive, we wouldn't have time to review all of it ourselves.

That fact became much more apparent when Watari came through with the preliminary contact sheet. There were more than thirty names and all would have to be contacted.

I finally got to find out what the odd phone was for when L used it to contact the warden of the California State Prison in Los Angeles. The warden was told in no uncertain terms that he was to arrange a private room in the prison for the staff to be interrogated. More information would come following the delivery of a package. I knew that a laptop was inside of this mysterious package, but from what I could hear the warden didn't like the idea of a 'mysterious anything'.

"It will take more than twelve hours for the package to arrive though, won't it," I pointed out to L.

"I had it on its way shortly after I received word of his death. I still wanted an explanation for the mishandling of his corpse," he explained. "The laptop will arrive shortly and then we will begin the interrogations."

Just before eight o'clock, L's unaffectionately dubbed 'BB phone' rang. The warden was given strict instructions as to how the device would be set up and how the staff would be pulled for questioning. I.e. with little warning. L made it clear that he wanted no opportunity for anyone to escape questioning.

L grilled them thoroughly, asking the same questions with slight variation time and time again, waiting for someone to slip up. No one gave off an air of untrustworthiness. Though we did receive a very detailed report of his every breath, scratch, and sneeze over the last week.

According to the staff, his behavior had all been within the range of normal- or as normal as it could be considering our person of interest. Despite their assurance of him regularly taunting the security staff, I made a detailed note of it anyway.

It was around midnight our time when I wished that we were on Los Angeles time. Staying focused was vastly easier around four in the evening.

Though the interrogations were being recorded, I was set to transcribe any information that may be of use. It was proving to be more difficult as the night wore on. The screen appeared to be getting brighter and the space between words was smaller. Half of the time I found myself with my gaze fixed to the battery icon in the bottom right corner of the screen.

They say that when you keep your eyes on a clock, time seems to move slower. The opposite was true for my battery life.

I closed my eyes in an attempt to refocus. When I opened them again I went straight for my coffee cup.

Instead of wrapping around the cup, my fingers made contact with a digital clock. Upon taking a moment to assess my situation, I realized that I was no longer sitting beside L, but rather snugly tucked into his bed. With the amount of sleep that I had gotten lately, I had no complaints.

Taking advantage of L's rare moment of consideration, I pulled the comforter tighter and closed my eyes once more.

When I was woken again, it was to the smell of Watari's cooking. _There is no better way to wake up…_

I sat up and spared a quick glance at the clock. _7:06 am. I suppose that's adequate._ In truth, with the way things had been lately, seven hours was a blessing. This was as bright and rested as I was like to get.

Watari turned from where he was depositing the food onto the desk. "Light; good timing."

"Good morning," I greeted. "Has everything been going well?" Sliding off the bed, I threw the covers back into place and decided to do a neater job after eating. Not that L would notice or care.

"Indeed. I was just telling L that the boys have found eight more people to contact in regards to their association with B."

As I answered, he carried on with serving L's morning tea. "On top of however many we still have to talk to." Walking over to my place at the desk, I couldn't help but get a whiff of the tea. "If you don't mind, could I get a cup of that too?"

Nodding in affirmation, he selected another cup off the tray.

L lowered his cup back onto the desk. "If by 'however many we have left' you mean zero, then certainly."

I stopped midway to accepting the tea from Watari. "You don't mean that you got to everyone last night?"

From his plate he picked up a bite sized cinnamon roll that Watari must have brought him. "Of course I did. I organized each interview to take place at times that would allow for me to get to everyone. I had to consider what times they would be working, but after that it was just going down a list." Upon concluding his statement he didn't hesitate to devour his breakfast in quick succession.

"So these next eight then," I started, feeling slightly sheepish on behalf of my sleeping faux pas.

"We'll get to them in a timely manner," he told me, licking frosting from his lips. "It's nearing midnight there and most of the new contacts are prisoners. We will have to wait until it is morning for them."

Nodding, I then asked, "So how much of the footage have they gotten through?"

L considered it for a moment before replying. "Out of sixty-one hours they have watched roughly thirty-six." He took a sip of tea and moved his spare hand over the plate, deciding which cinnamon roll to eat next. "You and I will have to watch the cameras that were in use during and after B's death. It's essential that we don't miss anything."

Four minutes later I was catching my first glimpse of Beyond Birthday. The image was shoddy at best; the quality of the camera and distance he stood from it did us no favors. After functioning as Kira, my first instinct was to identify the face. I wouldn't have been able to kill him with the Death Note if I wanted to.

When I couldn't see his face I moved on. When the recording was live it took place at lunch time. L and I watched him move through the food line with hunched shoulders. His shuffling gait reminded me of L's and I felt uncomfortable by proxy.

Beyond sat at a table a few seats down from three other inmates; he didn't interact with them. He just sat placidly and ate, never looking anywhere but at his food or straight ahead.

Twenty-five minutes into lunch he stood. Leaving his tray he walked to the other end of the table. He brandished what may have been a plastic utensil and brought it down onto another inmate's hand.

L didn't look surprised. Maybe, I thought, he'd already watched the video while I was sleeping.

Looking back at the screen, I saw Beyond being dragged out of the room by several guards. He let them.

When they all had left the room, L ended that recording and brought up another one. We went through several more camera views watching him being carted off to solitary confinement. There was no point where he put up any kind of resistance. He was slack in their arms, perhaps even content to be dragged there.

When they arrived at his holding cell and footage from the hallway stopped, L paused before starting the feed in his cell. "When he first came to the prison he was very disruptive, mildly violent. Never enough to be transferred, but he did make a name for himself. After these initial outbursts, up until this occurrence, he'd never caused another scene. I wouldn't say he kept his head down, but he behaved himself for the most part." L poured himself another cup of tea from the pot Watari had left.

"You could argue that he wanted to be put in solitary confinement."

"From his calm demeanor I would say the same thing." Counting out several sugar cubes, he dropped them all into his cup.

For the next four hours we watched Beyond Birthday lay absolutely still in his cell. It was _horribly_ boring.

L couldn't have been this bored when he was watching me on sixty-four cameras. At least I moved around and did things, but this guy made it too easy to watch him.

Shortly after the four hour mark he got up to relieve himself. He then went right back to lying still.

I groaned in frustration just as Watari entered to bring us lunch.

"I can't be that unwelcome can I," he joked.

"Certainly not," I sighed. "You're the most interesting thing to happen all day."

He chuckled and deposited our plates in front of us. "Roger and I have been going over security procedures most of the night. No one will be getting in without our knowing so."

"Very good," L affirmed. Though Watari listed all of the precautions they were taking and what they were checking regularly, L seemed more interested in his pudding.

As security talk hadn't garnered much attention from L, Watari moved onto the next topic. "Near, Mello, and Matt have nearly finished watching through the footage. What would you have them do next?"

"They have been awake all night watching recordings; tell them to go to sleep. They can finish watching when they wake up." L scooped a large amount of the yellow goo onto his spoon and opened his mouth as wide as it would go.

I had to look away.

After a few bites of my own food, I heard him speak again. "Once they have slept and finished with the recordings, you may inform them that they are to come see me."

"Even in the early hours?"

"Especially in the early hours," L confirmed.

* * *

In the five hours following lunch, L and I continued to watch Beyond lie perfectly still. He didn't move a single muscle even to fidget. He had self control rivaling my own and I tried not to be impressed by it.

He moved only to eat a meager dinner and relieve himself again two hours later. It was just past 9:30 the night before the deaths took place when L and I broke for our own dinner.

"You think they're still sleeping?" I mentioned to him.

"Undoubtedly," he answered. "They are still children and need much more sleep than you or I."

I scoffed. Where was this consideration when he kept me up all night for cases? I suppose it could be said that he just liked to push _me_ , and I'm sure that he would be hard pressed to deny it.

Glancing to the place in front of him, I noticed that he was going without dinner tonight; choosing instead to supplant his meal with coffee.

Shaking my head absently, I dug into the rice portion of my meal. With all of the extravagant food Watari would sometimes come up with, it was nice to get back to the basics on occasion.

"When you finish with eating we will resume with interviewing staff and inmates."

I crossed my ankles and turned toward him; though I was unwilling to put down my bowl. "How many more are we up to now?"

"We have twelve to confer with, Light-kun."

"We could start now. I'm just as eager to get this over with as you are," I offered.

"You may not be speaking to them, but it would not do if they were to hear you choking in the background," he teased.

Elbowing him in the arm I told him, "I have never choked. I have never had anything but perfect manners."

"Sure, Light-kun," he dismissed me.

Of those we had to interview now, there were a few inmates and also the staff that collected him from solitary confinement.

From the staff we'd learned that inmates try to fake their deaths by heart attacks quite frequently. It's because of Kira that they extensively test the inmates before ever even removing them from their cells, let alone the prison.

He'd had no pulse and no heart beat. When they tested his reflexes, his hand came down hard onto his face rather than avoiding contact. Nothing they did to him could make him flinch. They were all positive that he'd been dead.

The inmates told stories of their avoidance- to the best of their ability. They weren't afraid to admit that he scared them and most of the other inmates on his block as well. He wasn't "right in the head", they said.

I leaned back in my chair and stretched, savoring the feeling of having made our way down the list. _Makes me wonder if L ever told them of B's penchant for faking his own death._ If something concrete came up in the footage, I wouldn't need any convincing that he really was responsible for all of this.

Starting up the tapes again, it was evident that we were in for another boring night. The only movement in the cell was the constant flickering of the lights above.

He didn't even appear to be sleeping, just lying perfectly still. As the hours ticked by, the lights were becoming more of a frustration. I was guzzling coffee to keep my focus on the prone form atop the bed instead of the ever increasing flickering. Even on the grainy video it took effort to keep my eyes from wandering.

I was grateful that, despite the subpar surveillance system, the video itself only flickered a handful of times.

At 4:25 am he moved to relieve himself again. Once finished, he stretched his arms above his head and laid right back down. For four minutes he was still, but at 4:29 am he shot up out of bed and grabbed his chest. Standing, he stumbled to the door; his left arm was rigid at his side. He banged on the door once and collapsed next to it. There he sat, unmoving until a guard entered the cell at 4:38 am.

The guard did some preliminary tests, including taking his pulse. When he found nothing, he grabbed his radio and called for a medic team. The medics performed more tests, and he passed all of them. However, there was one aspect of the scene that stood out to me.

"Is it just me, or is his left arm particularly stiff?"

L went back and played through the assessment again. "Indeed it is," he confirmed. "It is impossible for rigor mortis to have set in this fast. No matter how they maneuver him, his arm always stays at his side."

Laying my head in my hands, I groaned. "Of all the incompetent…"

"No one is more disappointed than I," L deadpanned.

Still deep in my hands I asked, "Why that arm, do you think?"

"I can't be certain, but I have heard that putting a stress ball in a certain place underneath your arm can restrict the blood flow. It can make it seem that one has no pulse."

I reached in front of him and replayed the last several minutes of the recording.

Running my hands through my hair I theorized, "He could have kept it in the front of his pants and slid it up his sleeve."

L took his nail from his mouth to rewind it yet again. After watching the scene in silence once more he began to nod. "Stretching is how he got it from his sleeve to under his arm."

"Makes sense," I told him, rising to do some stretches myself. "If only the quality were better, then we could confirm it."

"No," L said suddenly. "It doesn't really matter if this is the case." He turned in his chair to face me. "I am convinced that Beyond has escaped. It hardly matters how he did it, only that we catch him again." He reached beside him to the coffee that must have gone cold hours ago.

I paced around the room to get my blood flowing. In a bitter turn of events I questioned how we were ever going to find this guy. Unless we caught him in the act or he left us a clue, I didn't think we had anything to start with.

I wondered if this was how L felt when he had first begun the Kira case. Of course, I had taken a more systematic approach. In hindsight, I wondered if I hadn't wanted to be caught. It was obvious by the time of the deaths that I was a student. When I changed the times to taunt him, it only brought him closer to my identity.

Wandering to the side of the bed, I turned my back to it and let myself fall. The mattress jumped and I let out a sigh.

"If Light-kun is tired, he may rest," L offered.

"No," In all truth, I was too wired on caffeine to consider sleep. "I just feel like we've missed something."

"In what way?" L rose from his chair and shuffled over to sit beside me on the bed.

"Obviously B is a very calculated individual. In the Wara Ningyo case he had all of his bases covered, all of the clues were sophisticated and clear. There was a beginning to the case and an end. That it failed wasn't important." Closing my eyes, I went over the details that we had so far.

"What is important is that it made sense. He had a goal," L continued. "The ashes were him reaching out to us in the same way as the puzzle he sent to the police before the first murder. He knew that the police wouldn't be able to make sense of it." He gripped his knees tight to his chest.

Opening my eyes, I turned to look up at him. "Then he made contact with the victim's families," I added. "But Watari said that neither victims of the sex ring nor the families of the perpetrators had been contacted by anyone with that description."

L leaned his head to rest on his knees. "He must be lurking around somewhere," he muttered. "He needs to keep an eye on the case somehow."

"Do you think there are victims we haven't found yet?"

"That would be impossible. I gave warning to everyone accused of having a hand in the abuse. Even if they decided to forgo protection, they all have someone who would notice their absence," he explained.

A thought suddenly struck me and my face burned in response. It was as if merely saying her name would profess my guilt. "He made contact with Naomi Misora too."

Gaze honing in on me he asked, "You were the one investigating the crime scenes. Did you see anyone who matched B's description?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "No, but you have to remember that at the time you didn't suspect him. On top of that, I was exhausted. Scoping out the area was the last thing on my mind."

"So we can't rule out the possibility of him being there…"

Our conversation tapered off and though we remained on the bed, we did so in silence.

I loathed it, being stagnant. I felt as though we were on the cusp of some sort of clue, but it continued to elude us. There was something missing- something we'd forgotten about.

I turned my head to look at L's unmoving toes and in my periphery I saw the clock. It was just after one in the morning.

"Shouldn't those kids have come back by now?" I asked absently. Maybe _they_ had found something.

L sighed. "It's likely that they don't want to check in empty handed." Getting up from the bed he moved back over to the desk. Without discretion, he pocketed as much candy as he could fit in one of his hands. "I suppose I could take this opportunity to show you the Case Room."

 _This_ caught my attention. Aside from Roger's office, I hadn't been escorted anywhere. I was eager to be shown some of the finer details involved in Wammy's.

Following him closely out the door I joked, "Maybe I can finally get the grand tour. Show me where you keep the helicopter." Under the dimmed lights, I figured I could enjoy a late night tour.

He rolled his eyes and led me down a different staircase. "It is at the hangar, Light-kun."

My step stuttered. "You actually have a helicopter?"

"Yes; though it's rarely used for anything other than training."

"One of those "better safe than sorry" skills?" I asked him.

"I suppose it is."

We had just passed the library when he stopped short in front of a nondescript door. It was almost tucked away into the corner and looked as negligible as possible. Unlike the other classrooms I had passed my first day here, this one had no windows beside the door.

I assumed that there would be a lock of some sort, but L just pulled the door open and walked right inside.

The room was dimly lit as well, and like the space near the door there were no windows anywhere in the room. Against one wall sat long, thin tables with half a dozen computers topping them. On another wall was a large projection screen. What really caught my attention was the presence of not one, but three projectors hanging from the ceiling. The only other thing I could see was a plush brown couch in the middle of the room.

 _Talk about Spartan…_ There was nothing that could elicit a distraction in this room; it was designed for efficiency.

Walking to the center of the room I leaned over the back of the couch. The projectors were all on, but nothing was playing on the screen.

To my right, L was reading the only lit computer monitor. I left the couch to read over his shoulder.

On the screen was a drafted email.

 _Went to the kitchen for a snack. To L's afterward. – Matt_

"Seems we just missed them," I mentioned. Chuckling, I figured that they knew how long they'd been gone already without consulting us. Perhaps they'd heard us coming and hadn't found anything, so were trying to delay the inevitable.

"No," L said, pointing to the bottom of the draft.

 _Saved at 11:58 pm, 11/4/07._

The time right now was 1:31 am on the 5th.

We stared long and hard at one another.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," I whispered. Though even as I said these words my stomach was sinking.

He must have felt the same way because in the next second he was sprinting out the door and down the hall.

And damn did he run fast for someone who had probably never even seen a vegetable.

Keeping close to his tail, I let him lead. His speed didn't waver until we burst through the doors of the main kitchen.

Hunched over with hands on his knees, he breathed heavily.

I looked around and checked all of the places a group of teenagers could be hiding. I was more than relieved to see that there wasn't anything untoward in any of the refrigerators.

Closing the last one, I saw Ryuzaki emerge from the walk-in freezer. We locked eyes and he shook his head.

I was going to suggest we check Watari's private kitchen next when a loud moaning sound from inside beat me to it. In less than a moment we were through the door.

The room was a mess. Utensils lay scattered across the floor, several cabinet doors were caved in, and remnants of various foods were smeared on every surface.

In the center of it all Matt hung, struggling, from a damaged light fixture.


	8. Control

_Greetings! Have this gift to help you through the first couple weeks of classes. Or if you're in high school- a reward for already making it nearly a month._  
 _A big thanks to my beta, **Vicious Ventriloquist** , who continues to escort this story to greatness despite not knowing quite where it's going. _

* * *

For a brief moment I thought I would vomit. Matt hung there, strung from the ceiling by his neck, flailing in panic.

L and I were both frozen to the floor. Despite the continuing struggle to hold himself up by the noose and the aggressive kicking of his legs, all we saw in that instant was a body on a rope.

L was the first to be propelled into assistance when Matt growled loudly from behind the makeshift gag. He walked over to the drawer that anchored the end of the rope and untied it as quick as he was able.

Matt dropped several feet to the ground and then to his knees as his legs buckled beneath his weakened frame. He loosened the rope from his neck and threw it far from himself.

Converging on where he knelt, I brought my hands to the back of his head and untied the towel from this mouth.

Rubbing the chafed marks on his neck, he gasped for breath. "Shit, shit…"

L and I each put an arm around him and helped him to his feet.

Upon being released, Matt leaned against the soiled counter. With one hand he pushed his goggles to his forehead and wiped the sweat from his face. Running the other hand through his hair, he seemed to shake himself off. Matt was halfway leaned back over the counter when he jerked suddenly. Hand flying to his chest, he ripped off a paper that had been safety pinned there.

Matt stepped toward L. "He was here! B took them! He's got Mello!"

I plucked the crumpling paper out of his hand before he could completely crush it. He didn't seem to notice.

L steadied Matt by his shoulders. "Please calm need to be an effective witness. Take a deep breath and then tell me what happened."

Matt gasped deeply for a few moments as he attempted to control his breathing. His goggles were still affixed to his forehead.

L had never been keen on being touched, but when Matt raised his hands to lock onto L's wrists, he let him.

When Matt opened his eyes to focus on L, I saw for the first time that they were bright blue. I had gotten so used to seeing him with the goggles on that I didn't consider that there would be anything underneath. The fact that this was only just occurring to me rang hollow with irony.

It was much the same way I had seen the whole of Wammy's until now.

As L helped Matt pull himself together I saw two people standing in front of me- two individuals. They were more than just some negligible geniuses operating under a guise. They were more than that symbol of justice they were supposed to represent.

At one time, L had been only a symbol to me as well. He hadn't been a he, or a young adult, a sugar addict, or any number of other things that I now knew him to be. He had been only "L" and L was a detective. He was a letter on whatever screen suited his needs.

Upon reflection, that must have been why it was so easy to want him dead.

I let L comfort Matt however he could; this was too personal a moment to intrude on.

When Matt was finally able to speak, he sounded like he wanted to rush right to the middle of the story. It was something you saw often enough with victims.

"It was just before midnight and we had finished with the footage. We wanted to get a little midnight snack in the kitchen-you-you saw the note," he stuttered with a wave of a hand. "We didn't want to wake Watari or Roger just to get us something; we've got legs."

Had anyone else been telling the story, L might have said that was what Watari and Roger were there for.

"So we went to the kitchen," he continued, taking his hands away from L and shoving them into his front pockets.

L took this as a signal to remove his own hands as well and withdrew a step to give Matt space.

Matt turned away and pointed to the counter. "Near was sitting on a stool, I was on the counter there. Mello was making pancakes." He smiled and wiped an eye on his shoulder. "We hadn't been here that long- maybe ten minutes." Matt shook his head and let out a sound that might have been a muffled half-sob. "He just unfolded himself from a cupboard." Turning away from us, he took his hands from his pockets and tangled them into his hair. "He was here the whole time, L. The security system would have stopped him, but he was _already in_."

L's face was void of any thoughts or emotions.

My own lack of surprise sickened me. I had no experience with this Beyond Birthday character. I had no delusions about being desensitized to his behavior, but I felt that if I let _this_ get to me, the worse that I was no doubt going to witness would break me.

He'd abducted two children tonight and was doing god knows what with them.

I needed to see this as just another case. I'd seen plenty where the situation was ten times worse than this and we'd still come out on top. This wasn't just another case though and I didn't want to see it that way. We weren't in a position where we could afford to be ruthless in its resolution.

The people that L and I helped, most of the time, were victims-pieces. They weren't people until the case was done and we had time to feel good about it. This method kept us ruthlessly objective and sometimes I didn't approve of it. It was impersonal, but really that's what "L" was.

There were more than game pieces at stake this time. There were no kings, queens, or knights. There was only Mello, Near, and Matt.

L and I stayed silent, waiting for Matt to continue.

He took a deep breath and stood up straighter. Turning back to us he had a look of ice in his blue eyes. "He grabbed Near and told us if we did anything to attract attention he would break his neck."

"Did you do anything to attract attention?" L asked, taking note of the room.

Matt shook his head. "No, we thought he would want to be taken to you. Or maybe _hoped_ is more accurate."

"I see," he muttered. "What happened then?"

"He tied Near's hands and threw him to the ground. Of course Mello took the best opportunity to try and attack him, but B wasn't so unprepared. I jumped in there somewhere too. I'll probably have bruises tomorrow…" Matt trailed off and looked around the room, as if seeing the chaos for the first time. "He's stronger than us- had more training. I'm surprised the noise didn't get anyone's attention though."

Crossing my arms, I lifted my gaze to the light fixture. "How did he get you up there, Matt?" I asked him, trying to ignore the shivers going down my spine.

"When he threw Mello off of him, he landed on his back-knocked the breath right out of him. Mello still got up," Matt sounded very proud as he said this, "but then B put me in a choke hold and used me as a shield. It doesn't take long before you're unconscious from a hold like that so I don't know about what happened after. I came to as he was starting to hoist me off the ground." As Matt explained, he talked a lot with his hands, gesturing wildly from different places on the floor to the light from which he was strung. I wondered if that was how he was without a game in his hands.

"So you were out less than a minute?" L inquired. His back was hunched more than usual. I could almost see the weight of these kids' lives on his shoulders.

Matt's gaze held firm to the ground. "Probably just about."

I stepped around L to be closer to Matt. "What did B do with Mello and Near?"

Rubbing the side of his nose he started to shuffle his feet. "Mello was unconscious, but Near was just restrained. He's not much of a physical threat, you know."

We did know. Near looked small even for his age. I let my concern for them show, but on the inside I felt a smirk well up. If he was next in line for the title of L, even being conscious would make him a formidable opponent. Near could hold on until we found them.

"And he just dragged them out of the room," Matt continued. "I've been yelling and trying to hold myself up ever since."

I recalled the image L and I were presented with when we had entered the kitchen. For a moment we had been paralyzed with fear. Despite the frantic movement that was indicative of life, a kid hanging from the ceiling wasn't a good sign.

Seeing him struggle to hold himself together now in the wake of his friends' kidnapping was doing something to me as well. I couldn't even appreciate the fact that it wasn't me this time.

My hands clenched and the paper crumpled further. Lifting it into my line of vision, I said, "Obviously this is something important. I've read enough mystery novels to know a clue when I see one."

"It's probably more of an invitation," Matt muttered.

L put a hand on his shoulder. "Read it out loud, Light-kun."

It was like I was back in school and being asked to read to the class. I held back the chuckle being brought on by the nostalgia.

Pushing on the skin between my eyes, I prepared myself for what the sheet could say. Of all the things I had anticipated reading, a poem was not one of them.

I suppose I had used similar methods once upon a time though…

" _Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.  
Someday we will all lie beneath the crust.  
One for the hearth.  
Another, the earth." _

I found myself interjecting at that line. "That doesn't rhyme," I hissed.

"It is an eye rhyme, Light-kun," L admonished me. "Stop wasting time"

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the paper.

" _The last sight is bright,  
But lost in the night.  
His skin shall be browned.  
His body, commit to the ground." _

I looked to L and Matt, whose gaze's were firmly fixed to my face almost as if my lips would reveal some secret the words would not.

I took a deep breath and went back to the poem.

" _Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.  
They will see a gate, not so pearly, but covered in rust.  
Just fuel for the pyre,  
Your flowers will wilt alone beneath the Shires."_

L's eyes grew wide with excitement as he brought a thumb nail to his lips. "I believe that there is a pattern," he announced.

I cracked a smile in relief, but it only lasted a moment. Of course L would be able to figure it out, what would be the point if he couldn't figure out the clues meant for him?

" _The air will be thin.  
Wait no longer to begin,  
Lest he be consumed by smoke,  
Lest he gasp and choke. _

" _Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.  
Retrieving the one closest to your hart is a must.  
Unless you seek to continue this falsehood;  
You know that I know, you wood." _

The misspelled words threw me off for a moment. Everything else in the poem had been used in the correct context, so the misspelling had to mean something. "Heart and would are spelled incorrectly though," I informed them. "H-a-r-t and w-o-o-d."

"I am positive that they must be a clue as to location. We must bring this to Watari and Roger immediately so that we may start our search for the places they are being held." L looked inappropriately excited by the clues. If the victims were anybody else I wouldn't have been surprised, but these were kids that he knew. I didn't understand how he could be so eager to solve the clues as if they were part of a game.

* * *

Once we had all congregated in Roger's office, L wasted no time in telling us what he had figured out so far.

"Every other line in this poem, until the last stanza, is in reference to immolation or being buried alive. It is obvious that one will be in some trap involving fire and the other will need to be dug up or out." Though he crouched in a chair while the rest of us stood around him, he held the entire room with his gaze and we stared back.

"The last stanza is in reference to a location, but what is this "one closest to your heart" bit?" I inquired. B didn't think L was in love with one of his heirs did he? I cringed at how creepy that would be; he was nearly twice their age.

"I don't think it's literal," Watari pointed out. "That stanza could be entirely for Near, who is in the closest position to become the next L."

"B likely thinks that Near is the most important to L because he's the best," Matt added.

Roger, arms crossed over his chest, nodded to himself. "That would be in line with his previous motivations. He has wanted to best L in the past, and what better way than to take the heirs that measure up to standard."

I could understand the resentment B must feel for L- immediately taking A's place after he died. The changes after A's death must have made it seem like they were loathe to lose any more assets. "Like their only value comes from where they place."

Everyone in the room nodded now.

"And as to the locations," L continued, "'your flowers will wilt alone beneath the Shires'… Many counties in the U.K. have a suffix of shire. In fact, barely more than an hour away, there is one called Wiltshire. I believe this is where Mello is."

Matt perked up immediately at the sound of his friend's name, but didn't say anything.

"And you think that Near will also be in a "shire"?" Roger noted.

With deft movements, L pulled a candy from one of his pockets. "Yes. Some place in which "hart" and "wood" have some sort of relation, seeing as those two words are the only ones that were misspelled. The intent was to highlight their commonality, I believe.""

"That could take forever to find," I pointed out. "And Wiltshire is a _county_. We need more than a general area." The clues were clear and easy to figure out, but damn if they weren't imprecise.

Matt reached to take the poem out of Watari's hands. "In the third stanza he makes reference of a 'gate not so pearly, but covered in rust'. Still vague, but it's something."

Looking over Matt's shoulder, Roger reread the poem. "Both that and the next line make reference to religion. Not to mention, the whole "ashes to ashes" bit is part of a burial service. It is no large leap of logic to assume they may be in a church."

"So what… are we just supposed to google 'rusty gate church in Wiltshire'," Matt grumbled. "That doesn't narrow anything down."

Walking to the other side of the room, Watari bent over the desk to Roger's computer. "Well why don't we find out."

I know that Watari didn't mean anything serious by it. He probably just wanted to rule out this most basic of basic searches, but when he stopped typing and is face paled, the other occupants in the room mirrored him. "The second link is quite literally a match."

L sprung out of his chair and across the desk to turn the monitor to face the rest of the room.

Roger, Matt, and I closed in behind him to look at whatever had been pulled up.

It was a Wikipedia page titled "Rusty Gate and Disused Chapel". The page was empty of all but a picture and location.

 _Berwick St John, Wiltshire…_ "You have got to be kidding me," I said aloud.

"This is too easy," Matt whispered. "Stupidly easy." He lifted the goggles from his eyes for a brief moment just to confirm what he was seeing. "There _has_ to be more to this. He practically said the location outright."

I agreed with Matt; there was something we weren't getting. If the first located was truly this easy to find, I anticipated that the second one would be as well. Considering he gave us "hart wood" it would likely only be another Google search away.

"I think it's a trap," I announced.

"It may be a trap, but Mello and Near will be at those locations," L interjected. He was unwrapping two candies at a time now. One would think he was trying to eat away his own stress. "This won't be as simple as retrieving them. He may make them easy to find, but they won't be easy to remove." He turned the screen back to Watari and told him, "Search 'Hartwood England' and see what comes up."

Forgoing a verbal confirmation, he got straight to the search. After a moment he reached over to the mouse and scrolled the page. "Nothing but a leather goods website and various photo albums. I'll search for churches in that area…"

A thought clicked into my mind just then. "Hartwood won't be the area though, will it?" I argued. "You said not even ten minutes ago that they are in some place with a 'shire' attached."

L's expression told us he was silently scolding himself. "We got too ahead of ourselves. We can't lose sight of the facts we already know. Thank you, Light-kun."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "Hartwood could be the name of the church," I suggested.

Watari went back to the computer. "The only Hartwood church in the world is located in Virginia."

Beside me, Roger let out a sigh. "What can we search for then? What is left?"

L's eyes bored into the back of the paper. "Read the last stanza, Matt."

Matt complied, speaking loud and slow.

" _Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.  
Retrieving the one closest to your hart is a must.  
Unless you seek to continue this falsehood;  
You know that I know, you wood." _

"It doesn't say anything aside from its reference to the first heir, and the misspellings we _think_ may have to do with location," Roger growled. It was obvious that he was becoming frustrated by this whole mess.

"What does that last line mean?" I asked. I didn't have enough knowledge about B or his past to know what he could be referencing. It bothered me that I was at a disadvantage.

Snatching the poem out of Matt's hand, he read it again. "It could mean a couple things," L muttered, candy moving about in his cheeks. "He could be saying that I need to retrieve Near unless I intend to replace him as first in line. He would see this as history repeating itself. If that is the case, in the last line he says that he would expect this. It might also mean that he knows I will save Near if only to prove him wrong."

"Obviously we have to try to save him. We can't just leave him," I pointed out rather needlessly.

"Of course not, B just likes to taunt me." L's glare was dead center on the sheet of paper. Without looking up, he addressed Watari. "What else can you tell me about the chapel?"

There was more clicking and a fair bit of typing before Watari responded. "Another page lists it as ruins. There is nothing else about it that I can find."

"Does it say how long it has been in disuse?"

"The picture was taken last year and it looks fairly decrepit at that point," Watari offered.

"Would you say that it looks abandoned, Watari?" If we could reasonably assume that it was abandoned, logic would dictate that this "Hartwood" location would be away from prying eyes as well.

"See for yourselves," he told us, turning the screen around once more.

We looked closer at the picture this time. The entire thing was covered by ivy. No way was anyone performing upkeep on this small chapel.

"What if you typed in "abandoned Hartwood" or something like that? See if anything by that name has been empty for some time." It was logical; we couldn't search the whole world for something with that name. BB wouldn't be in Virginia and wherever he was would need a certain level of privacy.

Watari began to type once more before breaking out into a dark chuckle. "That was all I needed, Light. Auto fill gave us the rest."

If the monitor were a living thing, we'd be giving it whiplash. On the screen was not a website, but an entire results page. Every link was dedicated to the abandoned Hartwood Mental Hospital in Lanarkshire, Scotland.

"I have complete and utter confidence that this is the second location," L deadpanned.

"But it's so far away," Matt mused.

Another internet search told us that it was a six and a half hour drive.

I glanced at the time in the bottom corner of the screen. At 2:46 in the morning, Beyond wouldn't have yet reached Lanarkshire.

"Are we sure that these will be the locations," I asked the room. The last thing I wanted was to be in another country just to find out that we could have gone right down the street.

"B would not have made the clues impossible to figure out," L reasoned. "The game only starts once we find Near and Mello. If we don't, then there is nothing to be gained." He paused for a moment to drop a handful of wrappers into a bin. "What bothers me most about this is that in order to bring them both back home, we will have to split up."

My heart dropped. In all the time that we had been working together, we had never needed to split up. If we needed an extra hand, we called one in. If something important had to be done in person, if we both didn't go, at least we were right where the other left. This wasn't the ideal situation for one of us to be a country away.

I wanted to voice my concerns with L, but Matt was adamant on being heard first.

"I'm going to Wiltshire to get Mello," he demanded.

There were simultaneous voices of dissent from Roger and Watari.

"No," L interjected. "Let him come with me to Wiltshire."

"L, what are you thinking?" Roger shouted, closing distance on the two.

"Roger, we need you to stay here and hold down the fort. We also need at least two at each location. Those who go will need backup, but we need you here in case Beyond was to come back. That only leaves myself, Matt, Light, and Watari. We have no time to waste in calling for backup. So I will go with Matt to the church," he reiterated, "and Light will go to Lanarkshire with Watari."

I could see that L was putting on an air of impassiveness. He was taking on the commanding presence he assumed only when he was holding something back. He told them how it was going to be if only so they wouldn't think to question him further.

For the moment, I pretended not to notice that he was up to something. "If that's all settled, we need to prepare to leave," I told them. If I could get him alone for a minute I would seize that opportunity to get on the same page.

"We all need to bring shovels," Matt added. "We don't know which is going to be buried so we should all prepare for the worst in case he reversed the clues on us."

"A wise idea, Matt," I heard Watari commend him, but his voice only came through as background noise.

Right now I was focused on L, trying to catch his gaze, but his eyes were firmly fixed upon the future.

* * *

After our impromptu meeting, we went our separate ways to gather the essentials as soon as possible.

I had planned to stick to L like glue, but Watari pulled me aside to find clothing more suited to Scotland's chill. When he was through bedecking me in winter gear, the only things of mine that I still wore were my underwear and the watch my father had given me.

Alone in the bedroom I'd been allotted, my fingers hovered over the crown of my watch. Shaking my head, I lowered my hand. I didn't need to check to know that the small piece of the Death Note I'd hidden inside was still there.

As much as I'd told myself that Kira was done, it was a comfort to keep some part of the notebook with me. I reminded myself that it would be of no use to me now. Even if we came face to face, Beyond Birthday was not his true name.

Putting the past out of my mind, I exited the room- and nearly bumped into Matt.

With his upper body hunched over into a bag, he hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

His rifling ceased for a moment, but he didn't look up. "It's Mello's emergency chocolate. I pilfered more from the kitchen though just in case and now I have to make it all fit," he explained.

I looked into the bag and saw how it nearly overflowed. _How much chocolate could one teen possibly eat?_ Though it was an alarming amount of chocolate, I didn't mention it. Perhaps this was just Matt's way of coping with the situation.

"Is that all you're bringing?"

Finally managing to get the bulging bag zipped, he tossed it over one shoulder. "Of course not. This was just the most precious cargo- gotta handle it with care," he replied with a grin.

I smiled back at him. I liked Matt; he was made of strong stuff. It wasn't to say that I didn't like either Mello or Near, but Matt was more personable- when he didn't have his head buried in a game. He reminded me of the person I'd always pretended to be though, except maybe the opposite. Where his true nature shined bright on the outside and gave way to a sly and cunning core, I had trouble being that open. It was easier to act like you always had a motive.

"Of course," I quipped. "What was I thinking?"

We strode in companionable silence the rest of the way to the garage.

When we entered, Roger and Watari were off to one side conversing in hushed tones. Matt left my side to head in their direction.

Looking around the spacious room, I tried to find L. When I'd been looking for several minutes and had just completed a circuit of the area, I heard fingers tapping on the windows of one of the cars.

I walked to the nearest one to my left and peered in the window, but it was too dark to see through. Hearing the tapping noise again, I opened the door.

L shuffled further down the seat and beckoned me to join him.

Sitting, I closed the door and turned to him. He was crouched on the seat-which was nothing unusual, but his knees were held so tightly to his chest with one arm that he looked to be smothering himself. The hand not occupied as a harness he had to his lips, chewing on a different nail now. Hopefully he'd left some part of his thumb intact.

"Why are you sitting in here alone?"

"I am ready to leave, Light-kun," he replied simply.

I scooted down the seat to be closer to him. "We're all ready to leave, but you could be ready with us outside."

When he didn't say anything, I asked him the burning question. "What aren't you telling them?" I had never been one for beating around the bush.

L uncurled himself from his tight posture and looked back at me. "You would notice that I was keeping something to myself," he affirmed.

Staying silent, I waited for him to continue.

"I anticipate that Beyond will circle back around to Wammy's. That's why I am going with Matt to Wiltshire. So that we can immediately come back and prepare for his arrival," he explained.

This didn't surprise me; Wiltshire was far closer to Wammy's than Lanarkshire was. "It's probably just an added bonus that you can keep me far away from him as well." In the dim light of the vehicle, I smirked at him. He would never admit to it, but he was always trying to protect me in subtle ways; thought obvious to me, it was nothing that I would ever be able to confirm by asking him.

He tilted his head to the top of the car and smirked back. "I actually wouldn't be surprised if your vehicles crossed paths going in the opposite direction at some point," he teased.

"Oh, the humanity," I drawled, matching his tone.

The edges of his lips rested at a slight quirk. Inching closer to me he let our arms touch. "You will be careful, won't you, Light-kun?"

"I'm always careful." _Not true._ The little voice in the back of my head told me that had I always been careful, perhaps I'd never even have met L.

He gave me a look that said as much. "And you'll be prepared to dig? I can't say how much help Watari will be in that area."

Nudging his arm, I told him, "I'm not a weakling. I'm going to do everything I can to bring Near home."

This promise seemed to satisfy L, but after a moment he looked back at me with serious eyes. "I want you to come home too."

We'd been slowly closing the distance between us during our teasing and now we were mere inches apart. Resting my hand on his nearest shoulder, I gently pulled him the rest of the way.

When our lips met, the situation no longer seemed so dire. The rest of the world existed in a universe outside the boundaries of the car.

It was a soft kiss- an 'I'll see you soon kiss'. Our movements were gentle and slow. On the rare occasion that we shared intimacy, we were never in a hurry to get through it.

When we heard the sound of the next car over starting, however, we knew that it was time to be on our way.

I had opened the door in preparation to get out when a thought struck me. Leaning back toward the inside of the vehicle, I mused, "Watari's going with _me_ … Can you even drive?"

L was sliding to the door on the other side and I resumed getting out as well.

When we had both exited, we made eye contact over the roof of the car. "I can pilot a helicopter as well."

I chuckled as he opened the driver's door and disappeared inside the vehicle once more.

As I was backing away, Matt zipped to the passenger door. Throwing it open, he shouted, "Alright, Mr. Sulu, engage!"

L had hardly waited for him to close the door before he was pulling out of the garage.

I kept watch on their car until I could no longer see it through the dark.

As I turned back to the car Watari and I would be taking, Roger nodded to me in acknowledgement. "We'll be back before you can even think about having a moment to relax," I promised him.

Sighing, his shoulders fell. His tired demeanor came from more than interrupted sleep. "For once, I will revel in that."

I wanted to tell him to get some sleep- to return to the bed that he was still dressed for, but I knew that sleep would not be coming to him again today. Even if he could quash the worry he so evidently held for his students, he had to make sure Wammy's was locked down.

If L was right- and he usually was- BB would be making a sharp u-turn right back down to Winchester.

Getting in the backseat of Watari's car, I didn't bother to put my seatbelt on. I intended to pass the time while unconscious. If it was one thing that I needed to prepare above all else, it was my mind. There was no telling just what I would find in Lanarkshire.

Watari understood this, and didn't attempt to make conversation with me as we pulled away from the orphanage.

I bundled the heavy coat I'd been wearing and laid it on the seat beneath my head. The car's heating system would be more than enough to keep me comfortable during the trip.

As I passed the minutes by laying in the backseat, my mind wandered to L. When all was said and done, I won't have had to meet B. L intended to keep us as far away as possible, even if that meant he had to confront him himself.

I worried for him. Sure I could call him-or Matt- and ask what their status was, but I wouldn't _be there_ to help him if things went south. All I could do was help Near and hope that they could deal with B on their own.

It was a stupid thought; that L would really _need_ me to take care of his own business. He'd gotten along without me just fine for more than ten years. He wasn't suddenly incompetent now that he'd met me. If anything, I'd made him sharper.

These feelings of mine likely stemmed from a lack of control. I was so used to manipulating everything around me, having a say in the goings on. It was still hard to rely on someone else to do a job worthy of my own approval. Even if the person in question was L, I still felt like I needed to stick my fingers into every part of the plan.

I just needed to trust that we would both come back in one piece.

There wasn't anything I could do about L right now. I just need to focus on getting Near and getting out.

I took some deep breaths to prepare myself for sleep. If anything was a silver lining, it was the near full night of sleep I was about to get.

Turning on my side to face the back of the seat, I readjusted my coat-pillow. As I felt my watch press into my wrist, I could swear that I heard a familiar shinigami's laugh.


	9. Bells

_And now a special treat, you get this chapter from L's POV! Many thanks goes to **Vicious Ventriloquist** for making this chapter presentable. _

* * *

L's POV

Matt and I were stuck in the mindset of being "almost there".

From the moment we left Wammy's, the only thought consistent in our minds was that we were "almost there". In the scheme of things, an hour was a very short drive. There was little of it that we didn't spend talking about what to expect.

We had been running through a multitude of contingencies when Matt noted, once more, that we were "almost there".

My hands tightened around the wheel and I spared a glance toward the GPS. With only twelve minutes of our trip remaining, this time we really were "almost there".

In the majority of situations, my mind would be running through a plethora of procedures and plans simultaneously right up until the execution and completion of one of them; I needed to be prepared for any eventuality. It was at this stage of the game that Watari would remark I seemed most like a machine. He would say that it was as though I was designed to carry out my strategies with maximum efficiency. That he said it with a hint of melancholy didn't escape my notice.

In these last few minutes, however, I chose not to think about what I was tasked to do, but about Light.

It was silly- him and I. It was silly that in some universe- this universe nonetheless- a "him and I" outcome existed. Logically, statistically, by all forms of reason, it was difficult to see how "him and I" could have manifested into a concrete actuality.

I thought often upon what had to go right- or wrong- in order to bring about this turn of events. This big so called "turn" in question being my willingness to sacrifice myself for a former Kira suspect.

I was not a stupid man; I knew that the Kira Case would never truly be closed. I was so quick to accuse Light of being Kira again because it was a very real, distinct possibility. Though I may not say it, and definitely not to him, he would always be a suspect. It is likely that he knows this too.

Yet, somehow, I still find myself willing to go to battle in his stead.

B would not be done after kidnapping my heirs. He would not stop after I figured out the puzzles and traps threatening their lives. This, I was confident, was merely a distraction. This scheme of his would be used to wear me down, to tempt me to move too quickly and make mistakes.

It was a good plan. I wasn't of the sort who could be taken down in one fell swoop. My defenses were too fortified and unyielding. I could take a hit; I could take several. The key was to work around my defenses, attacking in slight ways across as many points as possible. He knew that he needed me to overextend my capabilities and involve as many components as possible. Everything was a distraction for something else, except for the one thing that wouldn't be. I had to figure out which one thing would be the real threat. At the same time, these distractions couldn't exactly be ignored; they were distractions for a reason.

I knew that I had likely already made my mistake. I also had a good idea as to what it was.

By sending Light to the further location and out of danger, I would be dismissing a valuable asset. By attempting to be self sacrificing, I was removing the one true objective source from my arsenal. I would be susceptible to over thinking things and making further mistakes.

Looking to the GPS once more, I realized it would be for a final time. With only six minutes to reach our destination, I had to shift my focus to the big picture. There was no taking this one step at a time. Those who took things one step at a time often failed to predict how the execution of each step would affect the execution of later steps. If one wants to keep up, they must always look ahead to the next step- the next three or more if possible.

 _There is a 73% chance of something going wrong from the moment we exit the vehicle._ I kept this thought to myself, however.

I looked over to the passenger seat. Matt was fidgeting in every way he could manage. With both feet tapping, his head nodding, and the rhythm he was drumming out on his knees, he was becoming quite the annoyance.

"You need to pull yourself together," I told him. "If you leave this car a mess, you will only put all of us in danger."

"I'm just ready to go, L," he huffed. While his incessant movements did stop, he now began to swivel his head quickly as if to survey every detail of the changing scenery.

Taking one hand off of the wheel, I thrust it into one of my pockets. I pulled out the first candy my hand touched and tossed it into Matt's lap. "Suck on this."

He tentatively picked it up and twisted it open. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him push the candy past his lips and deposit the wrapper into the cup slot in the car door.

"What flavor is it, Matt?" I asked him. Though at the moment I couldn't care less, it was a needed distraction for both of us.

"Watermelon."

"Terrific," I deadpanned.

With only two minutes until arrival, the road had devolved into a narrow pathway. It was obvious that it was supposed to be walked down, rather than driven on.

"I'm sure that I don't have to remind you to be a quiet as possible."

Matt shook his head and continued to stare into the dark.

The path was surrounded by dead foliage. Dry and gnarled bushes reached out toward the car and I took care to avoid them.

When the GPS signaled that we had arrived, I continued to pull forward at a slowed pace, searching for the rusted gate the poem had spoken of. Seeing a break in the brambles, I shut off the head lights.

Next to a tree of rather intimidating size was the gate. It was small, simple, and indeed rusted. I pulled up to it and executed a three point turn so that we could come back the same way in a hurry if needed.

Shutting off the vehicle, I pocketed the keys.

Matt and I made brief eye contact before silently opening the doors and making our way to the trunk.

We had certainly come prepared. Though we knew that one would be threatened by immolation and another buried alive, we came ready for multiple possibilities. _It was better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it._

I activated a flashlight a stuck it between my teeth. Moving around the treasury of junk that we'd accumulated, I decided to start with the essentials. I bent over and reached for the fire extinguisher that had rolled to the back during the drive. When I came back up, I'd also grabbed a shovel and held it in the crook of my arm.

Not hearing any movement from Matt I turned to address him. He stood stock still with his eyes locked firm to my lower back.

 _Ah…_

"You brought a gun," he observed.

"It is better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it," I found myself repeating out loud.

Matt nodded absently and redirected his attention to the trunk. He pulled out a first aid kit and a fire blanket, a troubled look upon his face. "I almost don't want to know what we'll find in there," he whispered.

I took a bag out and threw it over the arm with the extinguisher. It was heavy with flashlights and various other tools. "You've been in high stress situations before. You've done more than train for this," I reminded him.

He peeled the goggles off of his head and replaced them with a pair capable of night vision. "It's different when you're the aggressor."

I couldn't help but agree with him. There was more at stake when something was being done _to you_ , rather than doing something to someone else. Reactive action was always more precarious.

After donning gloves and a pair of goggles for myself, we made sure that the vehicle was secure before slowly approaching the gate. It was unlocked and open just slightly.

"Watch your step," Matt muttered next to me, bracing his hands on one side of the gate.

I gripped the other side. "Duly noted."

Together we pushed the gate apart in as quiet a manner as we could. If B wanted to drop Near off in Lanarkshire, there was no way that he could still be here, but we couldn't risk any other kinds of attention either.

When the gate was opened enough that we could comfortably walk two wide, we left it and slowly walked up the incline to the chapel.

The grass underfoot was damp and alive with one of England's frequent rains. It contrasted greatly with the bleak visage of the rest of the plant life around the small, dark building.

We crossed through a courtyard of sorts falling between two rows of bare and ramshackle trees. None were wide enough for even a small child to hide behind, but still I felt closed in and constrained. As we got closer I noticed that it wasn't paint making the chapel appear so grim. Aside from the double doors affixed to the center of the structure, its entirety was covered in ivy.

Coming to a stop in front of the doors, I gestured for Matt to help me lift the bar that was holding them shut.

We both braced ourselves under it and lifted. It was set so tight that it creaked and screeched with our disturbance. I cringed at the volume, but didn't stop pushing.

When the bar was finally free, we set it down in the grass and out of our path.

It was small things like this that allowed you to stay a step ahead of the game. Some people might have just put the beam down anywhere without regard as to where it would be when they exited the building once more. But _this man_ wouldn't be tripping over misplaced wood tonight.

We stepped up to the door once more, ready to find out just what we would be dealing with.

I nodded once to Matt and he nodded back. With both hands on the door, we took a deep breath and pushed.

It wasn't difficult, especially with the two of us. In the two seconds it took us to open the door halfway I was relieved that there were no sudden movements or lights signifying that the chapel had been rigged.

When we moved the door open to the three quarter mark, however, there was the distinct sound of a metallic release and then of ropes or cable sliding rapidly over wood.

Matt and I whipped our heads toward the noise just in time to see a bottle crash to the ground on the opposite side of the room. In the same moment that it shattered, the ground erupted into flames.

I flung my goggles off and somewhere to the side. With this new source of light, they would only hinder my vision.

With sight restored, I looked in the direction of the fire. Sure enough, secured to a metal slab, Mello laid waiting to be roasted from below by the flames.

We took off at a run. The well traversed dirt floor was uneven and difficult to gain footing in some spots. In the center of the chapel, a larger mound of dirt caused us both to sprawl and lose our balance.

Matt recovered without a second thought and continued for Mello in the back.

My pace wasn't much behind his. In the split second more that it took me to rise I was able to get the entire perceptual message through my head.

Pushing up onto my knees, I leaned forward and placed my hands against the dirt. It was soft and malleable, not at all like the firm dirt that made up the rest of the floor.

Stepping back off the mound, I took in its size. Tallest in the center, it expanded out approximately one meter and nearly two wide.

I threw all but my fire extinguisher aside and yelled to Matt. "Get Mello, Matt. I've found Near!"

With a firm grip I plunged the blade into the dirt and pushed with all the strength I could muster. Without ever pausing to look where I tossed the dirt, I promptly cut back into the earth.

A dozen meters away Matt yelled back to me. "He's fucking cuffed and soldered to table! If I don't get him out he'll burn to a crisp."

I spared a glance to assess the situation. Matt had wrapped himself in the fire blanket and was wading through the growing flames to reach Mello's side. It didn't look like Mello was moving at all and I couldn't tell if he would any time soon.

I had no idea about Near, but if Mello wasn't freed soon, the table would heat up and he would indeed burn to a crisp.

Leaving the mound for just a second, I scooped up the extinguisher and threw it over to Matt. Almost in the same movement I was back to flinging dirt out of the pile. I had been digging down, but now I needed to dig out as well.

Hearing Matt deploy the extinguisher, I had to fortify my concentration on _my_ task. Matt could handle himself, but I still had a while to go. At hardly more than a foot down I had to wonder just how far Beyond had buried him.

With the sound of the fire lessening and no longer consuming the room, I could just now hear Mello's voice.

The relief this gave me implored me to work faster. Sweat dripped down my brow and I was convinced that without the gloves, surely I would have had blisters. _I may get them even still…_

"Get me out of here," groused Mello's gravelly voice.

 _He sounds drugged_ , I commented to myself.

Glancing once more in their direction, I could see the change in scene. Most of the area now looked like winter had come early, though some of the ground still burned.

The room was darker now and I lamented that I may have to turn back to find the goggles if the fire snuffed out any more.

Before turning back to my hole, I saw Matt close distance once more, intent on freeing Mello.

 _Thrust… scoop… toss… thrust… scoop… toss… thrust… scoop… toss…_ I repeated this mantra over and over to keep a pace to my work. One shovelful of dirt at a time I made progress. I was nearly two feet down now.

My hands hurt and my back ached from the strain. _Keep going… keep going… thrust… scoop… toss…_

I heard Matt tell Mello that he was going for my bag of tools when a second metallic release sounded.

Another bottle flew from the darkness and shattered at Matt's feet.

"Shit!" he screamed. On instinct he pushed away from the table and put out the fire licking the bottom of his jeans.

The room grew light again as the fire raged anew.

Mello seemed to be more coherent now, though his weak struggle wasn't going to get him anywhere.

With a hobble, Matt snatched up the extinguisher again and aimed toward the flames.

"It's hot," Mello rasped, trying to free his wrists from the cuffs.

More of the blessed powder shot out and Matt worked to cover the ground with it.

I pushed myself into digging faster. If Beyond had rigged the room to launch a second incendiary device, God only knew how many more would follow.

My hands burned despite the gloves and I knew I would have blisters later. I was barely a meter down and even less across now. Matt needed my help, but I couldn't risk leaving Near. Heart hammering away in my chest, I tried not to think of the consequences should we not move fast enough.

"Yeah, put out that fire, Matty!"

"Shut up and try to slide your wrists through!"

The frenzied screams from the back of the chapel were difficult to block out. I longed to be in both places at once.

Matt put out this fire faster than the first and was right back at Mello's side trying to help him slide through the cuffs.

"They're too tight," Mello groaned.

Matt positioned himself at the end of the table by Mello's head. Bracing one foot on the edge, he gripped Mello's wrist. In a low voice, he demanded, "Try harder. On the count of three-pull."

My hole was a more manageable size now. Perhaps I was even halfway there. I didn't think long on just what that meant. _Thrust… scoop… toss…_

"One," Matt shouted.

"Two," Mello moaned.

In unison they bellowed, "Three!"

Immediately Mello cried out in pain. "Fuck, fuck! Where's a safe word when you need one?"

My movements were slowing. It was physically impossible for me to keep this pace. Raising a hand, I wiped a trail of sweat from my forehead. This momentary reprieve didn't make it easier to regrip my shovel and forge on. Fighting against the tremors in my palms, I stuck the blade into the dirt once more and hefted another pile over my shoulder.

"Squeeze your thumb in," Matt suggested.

Mello's voice cracked. "What do you think I've been doing?"

Their argument ended prematurely when the now recognizable release sounded for a third time.

Matt didn't hesitate to leap away from the target area. His recovery was immediate and then he was back to deploying the fire extinguisher.

A combination of smoke and dust nearly sent me into a coughing fit. I didn't bother to cover my mouth as it would have meant another break in my efforts.

 _Thrust… scoop…cough…toss…_

Something hanging off of the end of the table caught Matt's eye. Picking it up and moving it away from the light he saw that it was a handsaw. His movements stalled and all color drained from his face. In spite of its obvious intended use he gripped the saw and savagely raked it across a cuff.

"Where the shit did you get that?" Mello exclaimed. In an act of record-breaking futility, he moved his wrist as far to the other side of the cuff as he could— which was not at all.

Meanwhile, I had changed tactics, choosing now to get as much dirt onto the blade as possible with each thrust instead of hastily shoveling at pace. Working outward more than down I hoped that I was close. _Almost four feet. Thrust… scoop… toss…_ I gasped as I felt a blister break.

Yet another bottle sailed overhead and smashed beneath the table. There had been much less time between this one and the last, I noted.

Matt hadn't been ready for this one and it caused him to stumble back and trip over the fire extinguisher. Yanking the fire blanket back over his shoulders like a cloak, he armed himself with the extinguisher.

Taking aim, he blasted the fire directly underneath the metal slab.

Mello laughed nervously. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't take your sweet time."

Matt's face started to form a reassuring smile, but it was lost when the extinguisher puffed and hissed and stopped spraying. He shook it with vigor, but nothing came out.

"L, we should really invest in some foam extinguishers next time," he shouted in my general direction.

I wanted to yell back at him to not distract me, that we both had someone we were desperately trying to save. While I whole heartedly agreed with him, and knew that foam would have made it more difficult for the fire to reignite. Complaining wasn't going to help any of us at this point in time.

Matt hadn't gotten the majority of the fire with his most recent attempt to put it out and now it was spreading back toward Mello. He was fidgeting around rapidly, looking for anything he could use to free his friend.

Swiping the handsaw off of the table he held it to Mello's line of sight.

"Good, God. Don't tell me you have to…" Mello muttered.

The fire continued to close distance and they were left with few options. I was only half aware of what they were contemplating having to do. The whole situation was too surreal to put myself in their shoes.

Mello was squirming, the heat more than a little uncomfortable now. "Matt, I'm charring," he whimpered. "Just do what you have to do."

To his credit, Matt didn't freeze, nor did he flinch. Mello worried a bit, however, when he ran.

Pausing only to drape the blanket over Mello's body, he sprinted back toward me and hurdled over the hole. We didn't exchange words as he skidded in the dirt. Leaving me to dig, he hefted the bag of tools over his shoulder and quickly darted back to Mello's side.

The blanket may have kept Mello from catching fire, but that wasn't where the true danger lied. If the table got hot enough, he was going to fuse and cook right on it.

"One of these things has to work," he assured Mello, digging frantically through a plethora of gadgets.

I wasn't sure that Mello could hear him. From my hole I glanced up to see that his back was arching as far from the heated surface as he could manage. He was having marginally better luck with this than he was the cuff.

When Matt had finally settled on a tool that could help, he let the rest drop straight to the ground. Clutching the new device in his hands, he held it up with a look of reverence. "I've found the Holy Grail."

"Stop dicking around," Mello shrieked. His entire body was shaking. When his sweat hit the table, it immediately sizzled and evaporated. His heavy breathing was turning to gasps. If he had to hold himself up any longer he would hyperventilate himself unconscious.

Matt stole back the blanket and braved the flames to side himself with Mello. Taking position with the angle grinder, he spared Mello a moment of reassurance. "I'll try not to cut off your hands."

Mello could only laugh hysterically in response as Matt switched the grinder on and brought it down onto one of his wrist cuffs.

My hole was uneven; I was at least six inches lower on one side than the other. I struggled to lift the shovel at all now. The simple act of moving my shovel to the other end of the hole took every bit of fortitude I could muster. Lifting it but an inch, I dragged it over and let gravity bring it back down again.

Another blister broke and I wanted to scream. Every time I pushed my shovel beneath the earth I tried to remind myself that I was almost there, but every time there was more dirt still.

My grip wavered and the dirt spilled over the edges of the blade. Tightening my core, I flung the shovel back over my shoulder and nearly lost my grip entirely.

 _THRUST… SCOOP…TOSS…_

With one arm and leg free, Mello was using his shoe covered foot to put more distance between himself and the table. While he had shoes on, however, there was nothing to cover his hands. With his free one, at least, he was able to shuffle it around on the table, changing position every other second to keep the heat off his skin. There was no such luck for the one still restrained.

Mello wailed in agony, still attempting to pull his wrist from the cuff as Matt worked on his ankle.

Matt was hardly in better shape. His efforts were divided between breaking Mello free and shifting his feet as rapidly as he could without unbalancing himself. The fire would likely modify his jeans to shorts if they stayed much longer.

Both sobbed in relief when Matt cut through the cuff on his ankle.

"You gotta hurry," Mello begged. His hair was drenched in sweat, but with no hands to spare he had to allow it to drip down his neck and into his eyes.

He and I were both exhausted, but neither could afford to drop. Mello wasn't faring well though. His back could no longer sustain an arch and every tremor brought his spine back down to the table. Every contact forced cries from his lips and for a moment he could hold himself up again.

"Don't give up now, Mells," Matt ground out through his teeth. "I just need another minute, maybe less."

A tortured sob broke free from the blond. Holding oneself up for that long under normal conditions was a strain. Matt was asking more of Mello than he could know.

My gloves were damp with what I hoped to be sweat. Where I had started off in a state of hyper concentration, I was now trying to actively ignore each and every movement. My unfocused gaze pointed somewhere beside the hole as my body moved as if on autopilot. Holes as deep as this one were not meant to be dug in half an hour.

My body sagged in relief when somewhere in my peripheral, I saw Matt spring to life and toss the angle grinder to the side.

Hooking his elbows under Mello's arms, he quite literally dragged him away from the scene.

Mello let his head fall back as Matt pulled him from the table. His whole body fell limp and he didn't try to buffer the drop of his feet to the dirt floor.

Once they'd made some distance from the fire, Matt gently lowered Mello to the ground and uncloaked himself. Sitting next to Mello's prone form, he threw the blanket over the both of them to snuff out the flames on their clothes.

Another bottle was let loose and this exacerbated the fire. Its size only grew in height, however. Beyond must not have covered the entire chapel floor in incendiary substances.

Matt crawled from beneath the blanket and positioned himself by Mello's head. "I got your whole stash of emergency chocolate- and then some- sitting in the car. Just wait until we get Near, then we can go home."

"You know all the right things to say," Mello rasped, staring up into Matt's face. "You look so fucking weird though." He paused for a moment to hack up smoke then continued to goad Matt. "You couldn't have found a nerdier pair though, could you?"

Matt laughed along with Mello and wiped the sweat from his own neck.

Admittedly, their behavior embittered me. Here I was in a hole tearing up my hands to rescue another student and they were off in their own little world.

 _Light and I never distracted each other like that_ , I groused. "Some help would be nice!"

My shout seemed to remind both of them where they were. Immediately, Matt was up on his feet and rushing to take my place. In his haste he told me, "Get out and make room."

The muscles in my hands were firm and cramped. I had to pry my own fingers off the handle at a speed that was just plain unacceptable. _We're in a hurry_ , I scolded myself. _You were in such a rush to excavate Near and now you can't even give up the shovel._

When it had finally traded hands, I shuffled to the edge and pulled myself out. Had the hole been more than half my height, I wouldn't have had the strength to even brace my arms for the activity. Rolling over the edge and into the dirt, I mirrored Mello and tried to ignore the restless feeling in my arms. Having my back flat to the earth was bliss; each of my vertebrae would sing if only they were sentient.

Though Matt was tired and not at all physically fit to begin with, he was by far the one in the best position to finish the job. He took it seriously though, not uttering one complaint as he hefted the dirt over his shoulder.

Another bottle smashed into the ground behind us. Now able to feel the heat, I turned my head to mind that corner of the chapel. Gone unchecked, the fire raged into the rafters.

"We're running out of time," I called to Matt. "The fire has spread to the roof. I estimate no more than six minutes before the whole chapel comes down on top of us."

When Matt brought down the shovel the impact made a new, hollow noise. "Not a problem," he replied. "I think I've got him."

I grabbed the edge of the hole and used it to pull myself into a kneeling position. I bit back a moan as I felt another blister break beneath my gloves.

Matt was pushing the last layer of dirt to one end of the wooden box we had unearthed.

"Be careful how you open it," I warned him.

I heard a soft pounding come from inside of the box and felt the biggest wave of relief I'd had that night. At one point I'd speculated that perhaps the box would be empty, leaving us to divide our attention away from Mello despite his obvious danger.

I looked over to where Matt had left the bag of tools, but now it too had been consumed by fire. _The crowbar would have been useful…_

Matt tapped the uncovered end of the box with the blade of the shovel. He repeated the action several times before lifting the shovel and bringing it down as hard as he could. It stuck in the wood, but didn't quite splinter. Bracing his foot firm against the box he ripped it out. The second strike was more effective, the blade breaking through into box. He shimmied it free yet again and brought it down with vigor. The shovel stuck even further and he put all of his weight onto the handle. The wood cracked and he continued to pry it up. "Kick the shit out of it, Near!" Matt screamed.

It was a 50/50 chance that we'd uncovered the side with his feet. Those odds were inadequate, so I shifted to my backside and slid back into the hold.

With none of us left in sight, Mello pulled himself into sitting position and turned to get a better look.

The section of the box Matt had pried apart was splintering outward more with each kick Near dealt to the underside.

When the section grew looser and the gap wider, Matt pulled back the edge and stood on it.

Mello hack and wheezed into the crook of his arm. "Is he out yet?"

Out of the corner of my eye, as I knelt over the box, I saw a large bottle emerge from overhead once more. My hands were around Near's ankles when there was an explosion.

Dust rained down on us and for a moment the temperature down in the hole was boiling.

Then Mello screamed.

It was a horrible sound wracked with choking and sobs. Even the blubbering of the rapists Beyond had murdered couldn't stand up to this.

Matt hurled himself from the hole without a word. His body couldn't keep up with the speed he spurred himself with and as such sent him sprawling at Mello's side. On his hands and knees he crawled the last several feet, kicking up more dust as he went.

With as delicate of movement as I was capable of, I pulled Near by his calves and into my lap. He was dirty and disheveled, but otherwise unharmed.

Above us, Matt's sobs joined Mello's.

"He needs help," Near stated.

I replied to him with a quick "yes" and lifted him out of the hole. He scrambled to assist Matt and I followed close behind.

Near was standing stock-still over them, wide-eyed and terrified.

I fell in next to him and saw just what had caused him to freeze. The whole left side of Mello's neck and face was saturated with blood and Matt was frantically trying to staunch the flow.

I grabbed Near by the shoulder with one hand and jammed the other in my pocket in a frenzied search for the keys. Yanking them from their confines, several pieces of candy escaped and scattered around my feet.

Closing his fingers around the keys I told him, "Start the car and place medical supplies in the back." I pushed him in the direction of the door and knelt next to Matt and Mello.

Now that I was closer I saw just how much worse the situation was. Strewn about were the entire contents of the first aid kit, as though Matt had tried unsuccessfully to use everything at once. Mello, himself, was in worse condition than I'd first realized. From what I could see, the back of his shirt was in tatters and blood was dripping from his shoulder as well.

Matt was just barely holding himself together. With a palm full of gauze, he cradled the injured side of Mello's head. It was clear that he was allocating a great deal of effort not to break down in Mello's time of need.

And Mello appeared to have a copious need. With one hand locked firmly on Matt's wrist, he gazed up at us, on the edge of hyperventilation.

After flattening the fire blanket next to Mello, I positioned myself at his feet. "Matt, we need to get him out of here. The roof is going to come down at any moment."

At some point he had discarded the night vision goggles and now he looked at me with sad, solicitous eyes. "On the count of three we move him to the blanket."

I nodded in affirmation.

Matt gave Mello an apologetic look and hooked his hands underneath his arms.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Mello hissed through his teeth.

I grabbed the underside of his knees and mouthed to Matt, "One."

He caught on and silently mouthed back, "Two."

Neither of us wanted to look at Mello as we moved him to the blanket. When our eyes met, we locked them there. "Three."

With deft precision we raised him only a few inches- anything to make the process even half a second shorter. A deep groan emitted from the back of his throat and he gasped in relief when we set him down.

Matt and I quickly bent to pick up the corners of the blanket. Mello's body was tense and rigid, as if he could block out all stimuli by simply pretending not to exist.

Carrying him out the door, I thought my arms would break free of my body. Every moment I still held the blanket within my grasp was a miracle in and of itself. It was situations like this that always left me surprised with what I could do simply because I had to. Whenever I personally defied the odds, it changed the way I perceived them.

In an effort to ignore the cramping in my fingers, I directed my attention to Mello's breathing. It was quick and uneven, and every exhalation was like a vibrato.

The pitch black darkness of the courtyard was a great contrast to the chapel's interior. I hadn't realized how hot it had gotten inside until we were rushing for the car. The chilled wind swept through my sweat drenched hair. All three of us seemed to gasp in simultaneous relief.

Without the goggles, we had to balance our speed with caution. At this moment, nothing would be more counterproductive than to misstep and send us all tumbling down the incline.

As we got closer to the gate I could see that Near had followed my instructions to start the car. With the headlights guiding our way, at least we knew that there was an end in sight.

A cracking and creaking sound erupted from behind us and I knew that the chapel wouldn't stand for much longer.

When we were finally upon the car I felt myself fill with renewed strength. "Matt, the door is open. Just slide him in and follow."

"Got it," he gasped.

Briefly I considered asking Roger to increase the amount of physical conditioning they were required to take. I would have to revisit those thoughts later.

Slamming the door closed behind Matt, I zipped to the driver's seat. Near had be thoughtful enough to leave this door ajar as well.

The car had built up a slight chill during the time that we had been gone. It was still preferable to the raging heat of the chapel however, so I elected to keep the heat turned off.

I didn't give a care to speed limits or subtly this time around. My foot pressed the pedal as hard as I could while safely navigating the roads.

In the passenger seat, Near sat buckled in and silent. It was odd that he hadn't immediately turned to interrogate me. Perhaps he knew how important it was that I had absolute focus. I wanted to commend him for his insight.

Behind us, Matt had shifted seats to be positioned at Mello's head. More boxes of medical supplies laid piled on the floor and the topmost one was open and in use. In Matt's hands were disinfectant and a fresh clump of gauze.

"Head wounds always bleed a lot. Nothing to worry about," he muttered, though if it was to Mello or himself I couldn't tell.

"Thanks for not cutting off my hands," Mello rasped suddenly.

Matt pushed the errant hair from Mello's face. "I could never do that to you, Mells."

"A good thing too... If you had, you'd be jerking me off for the rest of my life."

They both burst out into hysterical laughter for the second time tonight. When they'd both calmed down, Matt resumed his task of wrapping Mello's head in gauze. On occasion, one or both would start to giggle again. All throughout the process, Matt looked at Mello differently.

I almost thought I could recognize that look.

We were making good time. Twenty minutes out, we were more than halfway back to Wammy's.

Mello was starting to fall asleep and Matt was doing everything he could to keep him awake. They were running through multiples of sixteen when Mello paused and whispered something to Matt.

Matt's lip quivered almost imperceptibly. Without looking up, he addressed me. "L, do you think you could turn the heat on? Mello's cold."

An adjustment to the heat wasn't the only one I'd made. The gas was pedal was now pressed just to the edge of irresponsibility.

Mello's eyes fluttered more frequently now. It seemed nothing Matt said could keep his attention.

Worry had Matt rifling under the first aid kits, pushing any and all aside to get at what was underneath. Unzipping the bulging bag he'd unearthed, he tried to get Mello's attention again. "Look Mells, it's your emergency stash… and then some." His eyes were starting to tear up as he dug his hand into the bag and grabbed as much as he could. Laying them across Mello's chest he started to name the different kinds of chocolate he'd fished out.

When he got to the Twix, Mello let out a gasp and sputtered, "That one. Fucking feed it to me."

With shaking hands, Matt did as he was told.

I dug into my pocket and fished out my cell phone. "Near, why don't you call and tell Roger to prepare for Mello's arrival. Give him a thorough explanation of everything you witnessed."

Uncurling himself from the corner of the seat, he took the phone from my hands and hit the button for Roger's speed dial. Roger picked up on the first ring.

The farther we were from the chapel, the clearer my head became. No longer under the threat of danger, I was able to reestablish a few trains of thought. The most surface level of my consciousness was wholly focused on the road. Other more shrewd parts of my mind listened as Near spoke and connected what he knew to what I had experienced. I needed to prepare for the next part of the game and for that I needed all of the information.

From Near I'd learned that Beyond had drugged Mello. From Roger I'd learned that he'd procured the tranquilizers from Wammy's own medical unit. He hadn't drugged Near because Near hadn't been ignorant enough to try and fight back. Beyond had taken them to just down the street to where he'd left a car, letting them contemplate their impending dooms from the trunk.

When Near had tried to ask Beyond questions, he disregarded him and began to hum some nonsensical tune he made up.

"He still calls me Lamb Chop," Near grumbled. His hair was wrapped around his finger so tight that the appendage was turning purple.

"Honestly, that should be the least of your worries," Matt told him. A sour look graced his features as he wrapped the blanket tighter around Mello.

"You're absolutely right, Matt," Near declared with a rising intonation. "How can I possibly give a care to my own traumatic experience when Mello's so clearly outweighs it?"

I couldn't believe that I was in a situation where _I_ had to be the adult. "There will be no fighting in this car," I said evenly.

They both knew better than to glare at me. Instead they glared at each other for a moment longer before turning to face their respective windows.

 _See, Watari; that wasn't so hard._

The sudden reminder his name evoked knocked all the breath out of me. In that moment, every train of thought jumped four hundred miles away to Lanarkshire.

"L!" Near shouted, leaping over the center console to grab the steering wheel.

At the sound of his voice, I brought myself back to the car— and realized that I had nearly run us off the road.

I gripped Near's arm and gave him what was no doubt a wild look. "Call Watari! Call Light! Call either of them!" My shouting had grabbed everyone's attention.

"Oh, shit," muttered Matt. "Oh, shit."

Seeing the look on Matt's face, Mello, now wide awake, asked what was going on. "Where's 'e, by the way? Would'a thought he'd be stuck t'you like glue," he slurred.

"No," I uttered ambiguously. We had been traveling well above the speed limit before. Now I pressed the gas pedal to the floor. "Are you calling them Near?" They couldn't be that far out. It had only been two and a half hours since we had left Wammy's. They couldn't even be half way there.

A default ring came from the back seat.

Matt shuffled around the boxes of medical supplies that lied on the floor and pulled a phone out from underneath the pile. It rang for another moment before timing out. He leaned between the seats and extended his arm to present the phone. "This doesn't happen to be Light's, does it?"

I took my eyes off the road for a quick second to inspect the device. It _was_ Light's.

I banged my head off the top of the seat and groaned.

"I will call Watari," Near stated, likely hoping to placate me.

After a minute where Near simply held the phone to his ear and stared blankly out the windshield, I demanded answers. "Well?" I suppose my tone could be construed as rude, but at the moment I couldn't bring myself to care.

Lowering the phone, he turned to me. "He didn't answer, L."

Light may have been careless enough to lose his phone, but there was no reason for Watari not to pickup. A million scenarios ran through my mind. In the very worst case, every one of those things was happening simultaneously.

With a clam that surprised even me, I told Near, "Call Roger back."

The ever reliable Roger _did_ answer his phone. The moment I heard him pick up, I snatched mine back from Near and placed it between my ear and shoulder. I was driving far too quickly not to use both hands.

"Roger, Light left his phone and Watari isn't answering. I need you to ready Asset Four." Taking note of our location I added, "You have approximately fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes! That's impossible!" he shouted.

"If you haven't already awoken the medical staff, I suggest you do so. Have them take Mello from the car. You don't need to meet us. We don't have time to waste." I gave him no room to argue and with a flip of the phone, I cut the line.

In the backseat, Matt was grinning from ear to ear. "Asset Four, you say?"

I rolled my eyes. "You will receive training in its use soon enough."

Mello wrapped a weak hand around Matt's collar and Matt allowed himself to be pulled down. After a brief whisper, he let Matt go again.

"Mello says that he's holding you to that," Matt explained.

"If it pleases you," I deadpanned.

Matt continued to fuss over Mello. The bandages were being soaked through now and Matt was hurrying to put more over the top. They too became wet with blood almost faster than Matt could wrap them.

It was difficult to resist the urge to drive faster. If I hadn't needed to consider our safety, I would easily push this car to its limit.

I decided to wait until we were on the last stretch of road to bring up one last topic of contention. "You are all aware that you will not be coming with me to retrieve Watari and Light-kun, aren't you?"

Matt answered without hesitation, never taking his eyes off Mello. "Obviously." The pallor of Mello's skin was answer enough for the both of them.

Near, however, didn't take to kindly to this. "You will need backup," he reasoned.

In the bluntest terms I could muster I told him, "You are not acceptable backup for this situation." In many ways, I doubted that he would ever _be_ the backup. He would always be the one to have others behind him. "You would only turn into another target were I to bring you."

Sharp as ever, Near replied. "Then what will you do if you arrive to find both Watari and Light in similar traps to those of Mello and I?" Though I kept my eyes on the road, Near's bored into me. He looked at me with the same cold, tedious look I gave to those whose actions I knew I could predict.

The front lights of Wammy's were just coming into focus. My heart sped up and let me know that my body's ability to produce adrenaline hadn't yet been compromised. "In a game of chess, one must sacrifice pieces…" I reminded him.

"I just can't tell which piece you're willing to sacrifice," Near goaded.

I didn't respond to his prodding. My lack of response didn't stem from the guilt of my answer and it didn't come from shame. And certainly I didn't care what he thought it would be. My lack of response could only be attributed to the fact that I didn't know myself what the answer would be.

Speeding through the gate at the edge of the property, I could see a fleet of medical staff ready and waiting in the yard to take Mello off our hands. I didn't slow the vehicle until we were recklessly close to the crowd—though to say I slowed the vehicle may itself have been ambitious wording. Tires screeched, and as I threw off my seatbelt and hurled myself from the car, I was positive that I smelt hot rubber in the air.

Knowing that that the occupants of the car would be able to hear me through the open door, I gave a last shout for solidarity. "Take care of each other while I'm gone!"

Picking up speed once more, I sprinted across the uneven landscape toward the farthest corner of the property. It was a relieving sight to see lights illuminating a small compound in the distance. Roger could operate with some haste after all.

 _Running is truly the worst_ , I thought as I neared the compound. Despite almost an hour's worth of sitting in the car, with each step I found my body closer crashing. Legs cramping, I stumbled with fifty meters still to go. Luck being on my side, I was able to right myself before tumbling to the frost-laden grass.

When my feet hit the concrete of the compound Roger put himself in my path and consequently almost got himself mowed down.

Putting up his hands in a placating gesture he told me, "We need a few more minutes still." When I opened my mouth to criticize him for his failure he cut me off. "No, L, you can't rush physics. These things take time. You can't call and make demands with no warning and expect everything to magically right itself simply because you need it to. Now if you had called half an hour ahead of time…"

I let him continue his tirade. Listening, however, was not part of my job description. I walked further into the building, nodding at Roger every once in while just to make him feel important. With deft and careful motions I shimmied the gloves off of my hands. Discarding them off to the side only send Roger into a whole other lecture.

The cold morning air stung the raw skin of my palms. Now that I could spare them a glance, I saw how mangled they had become. Not used to physical labor, they were covered in blisters- most of which had already popped. Pus and blood mingled to create an utter mess.

The sight silenced Roger completely. Excusing himself, he rushed to another part of the compound.

I turned around to take in the sight of Asset Four. The Bell 206 helicopter was Watari's baby; I couldn't help but be fond of it myself. On the best days we could push it to 130 miles per hour. These particular helicopters could travel more than 400 miles before needing to refuel. This was the part I was counting on. If I travelled in a straight line all the way to Lanarkshire it would take me approximately 400 miles.

Hearing Roger's footsteps return, I took my attention from Asset Four; it would need a few minutes still to refuel.

He came to my side with a damp cloth and a first aid kit. "Hold up your hands," he told me.

As he took care to wipe the various fluids from my skin I noted his composure. Though he had changed from his sleeping clothes, he was just as exhausted as when I left him. Looking closer, I could see that his hair was in disarray and that the bags underneath his eyes were more pronounced. Perhaps he was even more exhausted than when I'd left.

Tossing the rag onto the ground, he opened up the kit and fished out a roll of gauze and a bottle of disinfectant. He gestured for me to hold out my hands. Pouring the solution over my collection of blisters, he sighed deeply. "They were both there…" Nothing about his tone of voice suggested that it was a question— just detached, despairing acceptance.

"We knew it wouldn't be as simple as retrieving them," I murmured. Too close to burning out, I didn't even flinch when the disinfectant stung beneath my skin. "Even outthinking whatever trap he came up with wouldn't have been enough."

As we both succumbed to the same pity party, Roger continued treating my hands. The way he wrapped bandages around my fingers was precise. It was done with the skill of a man who'd had to tend to squirming children for the better part of a decade. It was almost humorous to consider that _I_ was his best patient.

Glancing at the helicopter, I thought that it must be done refueling by now. "Please continue trying to contact Watari."

"What about Light?" He questioned, eyeing me suspiciously. It was likely he thought that there was still something important I was avoiding telling him— which I was. Despite his apparent distaste for his job most of the time, he was always perceptive to the possible dangers that could befall Wammy's.

I groaned. It was probably the most overt action I'd taken since exiting the car. "Light-kun left his phone in the back seat of my vehicle," I informed him. "But if you have some way of getting it back to him right this minute, you are welcome to call him too."

Roger scoffed, whether due to Light's carelessness or my brusque words I didn't know. "I'll open the hatch and disconnect the pump. You just get ready to leave." He abandoned the kit on the ground and left me to do as he said.

I grimaced. It never took much for Roger to have enough of me.

After securing myself into the helicopter and waiting a few minutes he finally gave the shout, "All clear!"

Being buckled in for some time, I dove right into the startup process. Flipping the switches for Electrical and Master Avionics my heart started to race. If this weren't such a dire situation, I would truly be enjoying myself.

Roger had opened the roof hatch for my exit and now stood a safe distance to the side, still within my field of vision. "Don't you go off the grid now," he told me, arms crossed in a firm manner. "Keep an eye on your phone."

With one eye on the controls and checking the fuel level, I replied, "I will try not to exacerbate the situation."

He nodded and stepped further away. "Try to keep me informed of the situation should there be any changes."

Switching the Fuel Valve Master and the Nav Lights on, I compulsively checked to make sure my harness was secured. I spared Roger nod before directing all of my attention to the controls.

Monitoring the Rotor RPM, I thought far past the journey I was about to take. Without an idea for what I would find in Lanarkshire, I didn't know where to begin to plan. I _could_ start at the beginning, as logic would dictate, but in the back of my mind the poem B had left was resurfacing. That last stanza in particular was taking on whole new meaning now.

 _Retrieving the one closest to your hart is a must._

 _Just how would Beyond know that Light and I were involved? It didn't make any sense for him to be aware of this little fact_. I dug into my pocket once more to produce several pieces of candy. It had been far too long since I had ingested sugar. Perhaps this was all I needed to put myself back into equilibrium. I let them fall into a pile in my lap and picked one out. _Lemon_ , I noted.

 _Mello, Near, and Matt had actually spent time around us, and they had made no mention of noticing. So how could someone neither of us had seen know that we were in a relationship?_

Now that the RPM was within prescribed limits I calibrated the altimeter. My heart jumped with anxiety. It was time to go.

I brought the aircraft to a hover five or so feet above ground and pushed all thoughts from my mind. I would have time to think on the predicament later. Now I just had to keep myself from increasing in velocity and running into the ground.

Keeping level, I increased the collective and slowly started to rise once more. At ten feet I increased the anti-torque and forward cyclic and continued to move straight up. Rising to two thousand feet would take a few minutes. With many of my obstacles now out of the way, I began to relax.

In the next four and a half hours I knew that I would have to make peace with myself. Something was happening today, the day of November the 5th, 2007. I couldn't pretend that my life wasn't about to change irrevocably. Perhaps the stars had aligned in such a way that monumental change was inevitable. The pieces were going to fall where they may and time was ticking slowly to a close. I didn't believe for a moment that there were some things we as humans just couldn't change. Still, I didn't know if _I_ were the one capable of making such a change. What small things still had to happen before I could set myself upon a new path?

Though I believed in free will, I knew that my future wasn't solely dependent upon myself. As I hit two thousand feet, I tried not to think that some part of today was set in stone —that something would happen that couldn't be changed no matter how hard I may try.

Laying into my course, I looked forward to the general direction of Lanarkshire. Behind me, ringing into the darkness, I swear I could have heard bells. _  
_


	10. The Devil's Agents

_If you haven't noticed by now, I like to incorporate parts of the actual series into my writing. Make of that what you will.  
A special thanks to __**Vicious Ventriloquist**_ _, who exercised great patience whilst editing this monstrosity._

* * *

" _The devil's agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not?"  
-Sherlock Holmes to John Watson, The Hound of the Baskervilles  
_

* * *

Light's POV

I dreamt on the way to Lanarkshire.

In this dream, L and I were standing in the rain. No, that's not quite right- at first it was only him. He was standing alone on top of a roof. I was sheltered in the doorway, avoiding the worst of it. The rain was coming down so hard that all other noises were muffled. Though L was only a few feet away, I couldn't hear a word he was saying to me. Even as I walked closer, soaking myself to the bone in the process, his lips appeared to emit no sound.

When he looked at me, it was like he was seeing a stranger. Or at the very least, not who he expected to see.

I tried to ask him why he was standing out in the rain by himself; he _had_ to know it was raining. L couldn't have been wetter if he was underwater.

His only response was to hold a hand to his ear as if asking me to speak louder. It felt almost like he was pretending not to hear me.

I decided to brave the rain, and when I finally to his side, I asked him again what he was doing.

"I hear the bell," he had told me. "The sound of the bell has been unusually loud today."

Spurred by his words, I listened for a moment, not surprised that I may have missed it through the downpour. However, I didn't hear anything, and I told him so.

Then he did something, that even occurring in a dream surprised me.

He apologized.

"Nothing I say makes any sense anyway. If I were you, I wouldn't believe any of it."

We stared at each other for a good long while after this, neither one of us moving as the rain seeped its way into our every nook and cranny. _What did that mean?_

After an eternity, I realized that though I had been looking at him, he had been looking right through me the whole time.

It was as though he were lost.

* * *

Sitting up in the back seat of the car, my eyes collided with a ray of sunlight. Instinctively, I raised my hand to block the light and heard Watari chuckle.

"L has always said that given the time, you'll find a way to sleep."

"I believe it," I told him, feeling a strange sense of irony.

It took some time for my eyes to adjust. The scenery on the other side of the window was just a blur of color as we drove by, the view not dissimilar to an abstract water color painting. As it transitioned back to something realistic and discernible, I asked Watari how close we were to arriving.

"Not much time now," he replied. "Fifteen minutes if we keep this pace." Whilst talking, he kept his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel. This was always a comfort to me- especially after working with L for any extended amount of time. After L became secure in a case, he had a habit of shifting focus from whatever needed his attention to converse with me. Eye contact was one thing, but he never seemed to make it so much as when his gaze needed to be on something else.

"Perhaps you'd like to eat something before we get there," he suggested.

A tightness in my stomach suggested that I would indeed benefit from a meal, but I couldn't bring myself to further divide my attention. I wanted to focus on the road, calculate every remaining meter of our drive. Mostly I was hoping that some epiphany would strike and suddenly I would have the answers that we needed- and Near along with them.

I unfolded my coat, which I had previously been using as a pillow, and donned it once more. In that motion I thought more of Near, specifically of the state we might find him in. Whatever part of this building he was in, it was going to be cold. He hadn't even been wearing shoes the last time I'd seen him. Or proper clothes for that matter.

Calculating the amount of time Near would have been at Hartwood, I was glad that it wasn't long enough for him to have frozen to death. My stomach turned when I considered the one obvious use of irony. _Of course, he can't freeze to death if he's been set on fire, Light._

Making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror, I told him, "I don't think I could eat right now, Watari."

"It's understandable to be worried," he offered.

I wanted to chuckle at his misinterpretation, but no doubt it would have sent the wrong message. "I'm not the least bit worried," I corrected him. "I have perfect confidence in our ability to rescue Near. I'm more concerned with the most efficient way to do so."

Now that I was more rested, I could see how L might view this as a game. It brought me back to the Kira case. I toyed with him- and throwing caution to the wind, dangled myself like a carrot in front of him. It was always times like these, right before the climax of a case, that I was reminded of the fun we'd had. At one point I'd thought, that despite my ultimate goal of killing him, we may have done that forever.

It was the sick thrill of a challenge that kept us going. It almost didn't matter to me now whether we worked in opposition or together. Though we both strove for justice in the world, only delivering _our_ own version ofjustice would ever truly cut it. We could never sit back and watch it happen. That was just the kind of people we were.

Keeping this in mind, I _was_ struggling with the knowledge that L could be dealing with B at this very moment. Perhaps he was even through with him. If it weren't for my impending rescue of Near, I would feel positively useless.

Staring out the window, I saw only an abundance of trees and fields. _This place is really out of the way…_

If I strained my eyes, I could see the tops of two towers in the distance. This corresponded with the pictures I'd seen online.

My stomach growled just as a faded green fence came into sight. With the gates already open, Watari continued to drive up to the entrance.

The hospital was a grand, towering structure. To my surprise, the outside seemed to be intact for the most part. The only gaping hole in sight was that of the roof, though many parts of the building seemed to lack any sort of cover at all. Upon seeing the copious amount of scorch marks, I connected the dots. Much of the damage that the hospital had managed to sustain was likely a result of the fire that had occurred a few years ago.

Watari slowed the vehicle around the rear of the hospital. Before leaving the safety of the car, I took a moment to survey the area. The grass was dead and wilted. In some areas it ceased to exist at all, whilst in others it appeared that straitening it from root to tip would bring its height up to my waist. This section of the exterior appeared to have escaped the fire. The only elements now marring the bricks were time and mold. Overall, it was not as dreary as the pictures suggested.

However, the most important detail I noticed was that there were no other cars in sight. _So far so good._

Watari and I stood side by side and took in the hospital's size. For as big as the face of the building was, there was quite a bit more behind it.

"Do you think Near will be in some place obvious?" I asked Watari. "Or will B have chosen some obscure room to hide him in?"

A chill swept through the air, and I buttoned up the coat as far as it would allow. Following the gust of wind I heard the distinct feathered sound of flapping wings. _There would never be birds here at this time of the year…_ My suspicion grew. This noise was the second strike. When paired with the laugh I'd heard while falling asleep and Ryuk's penchant for appearing right in the thick of things, it wouldn't surprise me one bit if he came for a show.

I spared Watari a glance and noticed that he too was bundling up. "We won't know until we find it," he muttered.

In other words, Beyond Birthday was less than predictable, at least to Watari.

I took advantage of our surveillance of the hospital to check the highest points for Ryuk. He was likely looking for the same spot we were and would search from the highest vantage point. If I could find where he went- assuming he was here at all and I wasn't just going crazy- I could get a better idea as to where Near was being kept.

My search proved fruitless, however, and I turned to Watari to let him know that we should get moving.

With a grim expression he nodded, and I followed him back to the trunk of the car.

As I pulled my collar higher up my neck, I briefly wished that I'd thought to bring a scarf. Picking up a bag of miscellaneous tools, I hooked it over one shoulder. All the while ignoring the rather large firearm Watari was throwing over _his_ shoulder.

It shouldn't surprise me at this point that he would be trained in such a way. If L could apparently operate a helicopter, Watari could certainly shoot a rifle.

With a fire extinguisher in hand, I backed away to let Watari close the trunk- which he did after procuring a shovel.

I scoped out the top level of the building once more on the off chance that I wasn't going crazy. _Twenty years ago you would have been in the right place for that…_

Side by side we strode to the front steps.

At the door, I turned to him and asked, "How do we know that he'll be in this building? There were several others. We may just be wasting our time." As pessimistic as it was, I needed to know his train of logic for putting us at this building.

In short he replied, "We don't." After assessing my reaction he continued. "We can only confidently rule out the main hospital half a mile up the road."

"Because it hasn't been abandoned as long?"

Watari looked up and gestured to the asylum. "More so that it is far less impressive."

I chuckled at Beyond's implied theatrics.

Watari didn't share my amusement. Looking far more grim, he murmured, "We can only hope he does not intend to send us on a wild goose chase. A scavenger hunt of sorts would be just his style, however."

I mirrored his look now. "Then let's not waste any more time."

Seeing no entryway left in the brick, we had to walk toward the center of the property to find an opening. Just around the corner we found the remnants of an odd sort of room. Only the shell made of faded red wood was left standing. All of the doors and windows had not only been busted out, but were nowhere to be found.

When Watari and I stepped into the nearest opening the wood floor bent and strained below our feet, releasing an eerie creaking sound into the air. Taking care not to walk in any area that looked too decayed, we headed to the back of the room.

When we came to the lone door in the corner of the room I was immensely grateful to have brought gloves. The paint was brown and flaking, with large shards of glass that stood out where there once had been windows. Since there was no knob sticking out, I lightly pushed the edge of the door and it easily complied.

The creaking was atrocious as long-settled paint screamed and peeled off in the door jamb; I cringed with every inch further that I pushed. The sound reverberated off the stone walls of the next hall. It wouldn't have surprised me if we could be heard at the other end of the property.

"So much for subtlety," I grumbled. The last thing we needed was for the authorities to be called.

Stepping into the hall, Watari took the lead.

At our feet was a layer of dust and debris. Glass from the windows was scattered along the entire length of the hall. That added with the few instances of graffiti, it was obvious that the place was rife with vandalism.

Making our way down the hall, we tried to disturb the chaos underfoot as little as possible. Passing overturned chairs and a defunct coffee maker we saw that the end of the hall had been boarded off. As such, we took the only other available route.

It was much the same as the hall we'd just come from. Each step kicked up grime and dust and the walls were peeling away as if they were the carcass of some long-forgotten reptile. It was a wonder nature hadn't taken back the whole building.

This narrow hall lead to another and another after that, to the point they were less like hallways and more like a collection of rooms. The lighting was better here at least. Without a roof, the bright morning sun watched us from directly overhead. The closer we got to the center of the asylum, the more we became swamped by browning overgrowth. It seemed I had spoken too soon.

So far, we had encountered nothing suspicious. There was no smoky smell to signal a fire nor were there any distinctly disturbed sections of dirt along the floor. We hadn't even scoped half the building, but one thought there would be _something_ out of the ordinary. I hadn't even noticed any more traces of the rogue shinigami.

Emerging toward the back of the asylum, we came out into what must have been one of the ballrooms. If I remembered correctly, this had been one of the main rooms to fall victim to a fire several years ago. Left without a roof, it had certainly fallen victim to the elements. The majority of the floor was coated in a thick layer of dying moss. Had we come in the summer, it may have even been a beautiful scene.

Above us, rusted metal support beams made up what was left of the second floor. This part of the asylum was merely a shell of what it once had been.

As Watari went to check the other entrances to the room, I ventured to the far side to look out of the window panes. For as far as the eye could see, there were only trees.

A gust of wind blew through the ballroom and disrupted the dust around me.

Despite the fit of coughing this caused me, I heard a deep metallic ring sound off amidst the beams.

I whirled around to prepare myself for a trap, but instead stared up to meet Ryuk's amused gaze. His shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

With Watari at the other end of the ballroom, I would be unable to converse with him. He seemed to know this and didn't wait for verbal acknowledgement.

His laughter was harder for him to conceal now. "No worries, Light. I'm just here for the show." His dark chuckle was bordering on hysterical now. He definitely knew something that we didn't. One thing was certain, however- we were in for a challenge.

Raising an eyebrow at him, I turned back to the window and pretended to look out into the woods again.

Rising from his kneeling position on the beam, he laughed for a moment longer before telling me, "You should know by now that I'm not here to give you hints. I wouldn't trade all the apples in the world to influence how this plays out."

Bracing himself, his great black wings emerged from his back. With one large flap, he was in the air and disappearing from sight.

Never one not to take action, I forced down my shock and dread and hurried to over to Watari. "I suddenly have a very bad feeling. We should keep moving."

He nodded once and gestured for me to go through the center doorway. "We'll look over this center room first and then check the next half of the building. If we don't find anything, we'll have to go to the other buildings."

Each step we took was accompanied by the soft crunch of fallen leaves. My grip tightened on the fire extinguisher as I moved past the threshold. With Ryuk's warning, I was definitely prepared to use it.

This front room, though much larger than the small ones off to the side, was in much the same condition. Dead foliage littered the corners and the walls were flaking off layer by layer. Open to the sky, the wind was free to chill us in our boots. The only noticeable difference was the black and white checkerboard like tile beneath our feet instead of concrete and dirt.

I could see the small rooms we'd walked through to one side of us. Knowing that they didn't hold anything of value, I strode to the opposite side of the room to check the entryway. It would be frustrating to find something at the entrance we chose not to take, but at this point I just wanted to find Near and get out.

Walking around the chips and holes in the tile, I turned briefly to make sure Watari hadn't left for one of the side rooms. Logically, I knew that he wouldn't, but as a human with warning- vague as it was- of what was to come, I had the urge to make sure that we weren't separated.

Ten meters behind me, he was just fine. Sticking his head through a doorway, he gave it a good once over. He must have noticed my gaze for he met me with one of reassurance.

I gave him a quick smile and peered into the foyer. It was another roofless room with all of its windows long smashed out.

A light gust of wind blew dried leaves across my feet. When I heard them crackle as they blew in the breeze, I had no choice but to acknowledge just how quiet the hospital was. Up until this point, even after Ryuk had made an appearance, the whole scene had been strangely peaceful. This could have been just another building lost in time.

Now, as I stood in the doorway, it struck me how the only noises I registered were the sounds of my own breathing and the turning of the leaves in the wind.

Catching the subtle movement of something dangling in the corner of my vision, I turned to face the culprit; with one leg hanging into the foyer, Ryuk leaned against the dividing wall. He wasn't laughing now. He only smiled down at me with an eerie, dreadful grin.

His expression brought me back to the first day we had met, there in my bedroom. With that same look, he had been telling me that when the time came, I would go to neither Heaven nor Hell.

And, much like the first time he appeared to me, I felt terror.

At least I had the good graces not to scream this time.

The room took on a chill that I couldn't attribute entirely to the weather and I spun back around to bolt out the doorway.

I noticed it far faster than I had the ability to stop myself. Skidding to a halt, my mind was already running a mile a minute processing the scene before me. Less than ten meters away in the center of the room, a dark haired figure had one arm around Watari's chest and another at his neck.

Noting the messy, haphazard hair, my first reaction was to wonder how L had gotten here so fast. In the same second I corrected myself; there was no way that this could be L.

In one skittering motion, this newcomer redirected his attention from Watari and fixed his gaze upon my face.

We both held our ground, staring the other down in a brief moment that felt as though it would have carried on into eternity if not for the shinigami's interruption—the still silence of the room was replaced by a wheezing cackle of a laugh. Knowing that I was the only one who could see or hear Ryuk, I didn't turn around to acknowledge him.

When my eyes finally caught up with my ears, I realized that the sound wasn't coming from behind me. The man holding Watari to his chest in some form of support was nearly doubled over in a fit of hysterical laughter.

Every hair on my body stood on end; it was obvious who this man was. Not wanting to lose control of the situation, I called out to him. "B!"

Beyond's knees caved inwards as he laughed harder, and his captive hunched over with him. Lowering the arm positioned near the older man's neck, he flung something small toward the side of the room. The object bounced off the ground with a hollow, plastic echo and rolled in a wide circle before coming to rest. I could just make out the shape of a syringe.

"Put him down, Beyond," I commanded. Calculating my next move, I decided that closing distance- if only slightly- would be beneficial. I had to make it known that I wasn't afraid of him, that we were going to do this on my terms.

It was a reckless feeling of power that I drew up. It was that illusion of control that I would make him believe in. Though I was clearly at a disadvantage, I was known for making the tables turn; he would find out soon enough.

For now I just had to figure out what his angle was. His mere presence was enough to scrap L's assumptions. In hindsight, this right here was a better plan anyway. Why go back to Wammy's when he could get L to come straight to him?

Unfortunately, he had miscalculated this time. With a 50% chance of L turning up in either location it was hit or miss. He got me instead.

So I stood tall and waited for him to make the next move.

His laugh thinned out with a deliberate, "Ha, ha, ha…" Straightening himself back up, he seemed to position Watari in front of his own body like one might a shield.

"You know my name," B mused. While I hadn't gotten a good look at his face yet, his voice held an unsettling similarity to L's own baritone. "You seem to have caught me at quite the disadvantage. Why don't you come closer?"

Widening my stance, I made a show of staying exactly where I was. "I'm not here to play games with you. Let Watari go and tell us where Near is so that we may leave."

Without hesitation he replied, "Near's not here." Even from thirty feet away I could see the nonchalant shrug of his shoulder, as if he were telling me the most obvious thing in the world.

Glancing at Watari, I could see that he hadn't moved in the least. It was likely that a sedative of some sort had been in the syringe. I hoped fervently that it had _only_ been a sedative… "Then let us go. Neither of us is L, and he's who you're after isn't he?"

"I'm not going to stop you if you want to leave," B stated.

From this distance, I doubted he could register the skepticism I was attempting to convey in my eyebrow.

"However, if you choose to leave…"

Trailing off, he shifted his weight and dug around into his jeans pocket. What he pulled out moments later couldn't be mistaken for anything else —especially when he flipped it open with a flick of his wrist.

The sound of the blade clicking into place was the only affirmation I needed. Holding the point of the knife to the center of Watari's throat he continued. "I will kill Quillsh Wammy."

Considering the time I'd spent at Wammy's House, by this point I'd obviously figured out Watari's last name. Despite this, hearing his full name for the first time was jarring. In another life I would have been thrilled to get his name. Not only would I would have written it in the Death Note without hesitation, I would have also made him tell me L's.

It was ironic, really, how much the tables had turned.

I smirked, not in the least bit willing to play into his hand. "Like I needed more incentive to stay." Before he could call me out on my change of heart I explained. "If Near isn't here, then I've got all the time in the world." Taking several steps closer in a bid to close him in, I added, "And if you're satisfied to have me here instead of L, I'd be more than happy to keep you busy." There was less than twenty feet between us now. The more I could keep his attention, the safer Watari would be.

Even before I had finished talking, he was disentangling himself from Watari and tossing him to the side. While this was well and good for Watari, it didn't bode well for me. If B didn't need him as a shield, he must have ascertained my threat level to be within his ability to manage.

Now that he lacked cover, I could judge him for myself. Though my eyesight prevented me from taking in the finer details, I could still make out his shape. From this distance he appeared to be at least a bit sturdier than L- not as if that was a high bar to set. Considering this, physically I may stand a chance. Though L typically lived a sedentary lifestyle, I always took advantage of the gyms when hotels had them.

It wasn't a physical fight I was after though. In the last seven months, constant contact with L had elevated my verbal sparring abilities to Godlike levels. I was more than capable of not only keeping him talking, but actually getting something useful out of him in the meantime.

My mind drifted to Near. If what B said was true, and he really wasn't here, then he was likely with Mello at the chapel in Wiltshire. Logically, if Near and Mello were in Wiltshire, neither could be here. L would be on his way- was likely already on his way- as soon as he was able.

I only needed to stay alive until he showed up.

If I strained my eyes, I could just make out the subtle tilt of his head. "Keep me busy? I intend to keep busy regardless of your cooperation," he informed me. "Now, I'm not the type to give away all of my plans before executing them; I prefer to leave an element of surprise."

Interrupting him, I mocked, "Is that why you always leave clues? To surprise us?"

B was unaffected by my attempt to goad him. "It's all part of the game," he told me, shuffling his feet in place. I assumed it was another attempt to close distance. "He and I are foils, you know. Equal and opposing forces"

I wanted to laugh. Even locked away in prison, everyone knew about Kira; maybe criminals most of all. By some chance he had escaped me then, but no longer. He had no idea who he was dealing with. "I hate to break it to you, but you've come a little late to fill that spot."

Behind me, Ryuk began to cackle.

If I could see Beyond's face, I bet that I would see nothing but a glare.

"It was once your goal to best L wasn't it? To give him a case that he couldn't solve. You should know that while you were locked away in prison, you were locked in there with _Kira_." Though I couldn't see his expression, I knew that he could see mine. I smirked at him. L's two greatest foes facing off and unbeknownst to B I had been victorious. _More so than him anyway._ I never wound up in a prison cell or in the electric chair. I was working _with_ L. That was a success if I'd ever seen one. I was _still_ enacting justice- adapted though it was.

"Kira was in there every day, maybe he took an inmate or two that you knew. He was also out here though, giving L a run for his money." It had been quite some time since I'd felt like this- powerful. At the same time, I wanted to mock him more still. It wasn't B per say that riled me up, it was the memory of how L and I used to be at each others' throats. If I hadn't had those memories, B himself wouldn't have been enough to provoke me. His only worth was as L's copy.

Now that I looked closer at his appearance, I could tell that he was making an effort to dress like L. Though I couldn't take in the finer details without risking my own safety, it wasn't hard to identify his unruly black hair and faded jeans. The only difference I noticed was obviously deliberate. Whereas L wore a white long-sleeve shirt, B's was black. I could almost laugh at the heavy-handed use of symbolism.

"You sure have a lot to say about Kira," Beyond mused.

It wasn't even the least bit tempting to lay out all my cards on the table and let him know who he was really dealing with. It wasn't likely to do me any good anyway when I needed both a name and face to kill. According to L, Beyond Birthday wasn't his real name and I had no plans to get close enough to properly see his face.

 _And you gave that up_ , a little voice in my head reminded me.

Opening up my posture to signify ease, I argued, "Of course I do; the Kira case is monumental. I should have a lot to say." Not wanting to bring attention back to Watari who was still lying prone on the ground, I did not gesture to him. "It's obvious by this point that I'm working with L. I saw firsthand the battle between _those_ opposing forces." Just to add insult to injury I added, "Considering how long you've been in prison, I'd say that I fit the bill of rival more closely than you do."

These words did not have the effect on him that I had anticipated. His hunched form perked up and he seemed to open himself up to me as well. With an airy, sing-song sort of tone B exclaimed, "Oh, good! You _have_ been working _with_ him! You really are the heir next in line!"

This is unexpected. In talking myself up I hadn't anticipated that he would want to face off with anyone other than L. For the first time I was beginning to realize the possibility that he wanted _me_ to formidable.

 _The one closest to your heart._ We'd thought that he was referring to Near as the heir next in line to take the title 'L', but if he somehow thought that I was ahead of Near… That raised the question as to how he knew I existed in the first place. I suppressed a shiver something else occurred to me—something that made chills crawl up my spine.

Did he never intend for L to come to this location?

By this point I knew that if both Mello and Near were at Wiltshire, they were intended as a distraction. The poem was meant to split us up with the assumption that Near was next in line. How would he know that L wouldn't be the one to come here though? And again, how did he not only know of me, but know that I worked closely with L?

I carefully schooled my expression to one of complete neutrality.

B started to sway back and forth as if to disorient me.

If I was now taking Near's place as part of the clue and B's motivation still remained the same, his intention was still to beat L by taking away that which was most precious to the title of 'L'. Before the Kira case, his title most definitely would have fit the criteria. That 'L' remained uncorrupted and competent was certainly very important to him. Now that L—Ryuzaki—had actually begun to consider himself more than a letter, he may consider his relationships to be slightly higher on the scale than he once did.

I wanted to give the universe my middle fingers. In technicality, it didn't matter what was the most important to him. Either way, both Watari and I were still here. L could just be hurt in two ways rather than one now.

In the event that I would need quick use of my arms, I refrained from keeping them crossed. Instead, I put them on my hips. In a voice that was both cheerful and condescending I asked him, "What would it do to your plans if I told you that I had no intention of becoming L?"

He brought the hand not holding the knife to his lips. Perhaps he knew enough of L to be able to mimic his nail biting. "I would not believe you," he stated. "Watari, as you call him, would not accompany just anyone to a crime scene."

There it was; it was just as we suspected. He must have been watching one of the murder scenes and saw Watari and I together.

I wondered which one it was. It could have been any of them. Neither Watari nor I had known to look for him at the time so it was possible that he had been within mere meters of us.

"That is all the evidence I need to prove that you're his Robin," he declared, chuckling darkly.

I sent him an irritated look. "His what?"

"The Robin to his Batman!"

I didn't read those kinds of comics. I only knew the gist of that superhero's story. Perhaps he was being deliberately obtuse.

"So that would make to you Joker, wouldn't it?" I guessed.

"Precisely!" he yelled, his voice echoing off of the walls and reverberating back around the room. "And do you know what the Joker does to our dear Robin?"

"No, I don't," I told him. This game was going to be entirely unamusing if he relied on pop culture references. "But I bet that you're about to tell me."

B dragged his feet forward another meter as if on ice skates. He paused for a moment to stare at me before lowering his nail from his lip and replying, "He kills him… _Light Yagami_."

I didn't give him the satisfaction of any reaction. Minutes ago he'd said that he didn't know my name, yet somehow now he did. My first guess would be to say that he was lying. There was no other explanation. I began to waver in my conclusion when I saw his gaze so fixed upon the area just above my head.

"Odd," he muttered to himself. "So very odd. I've never seen this before." When his head tilted to the side in contemplation in just the same way that L's did, I was repelled like no other action of his had accomplished thus far. Out of all the mannerisms that L tended to favor, I found that one in particular to be endearing.

"And just what is so odd about me," I demanded. No one had ever called me odd before.

His next words struck me like a blunt object to the back of my occipital lobe. "Did you know that you don't have a lifespan?"

A gust of wind swept through the room and I resisted crossing my arms for insulation. Beyond, on the other hand, looked unperturbed. Despite the thin shirt he was wearing, he looked perfectly at ease. However, the wind was the least of my worries. It was entirely unneeded seeing as Beyond had the ability to turn the blood in my veins to ice.

 _This changes everything._ I only needed one guess to figure out just how he knew my name now. It seemed as if there was no end to my problems. If Beyond had not only a Death Note, but the shinigami eyes as well, he could easily out me to L.

This must have been why Ryuk chose now to show himself. A face off between two Death Note users isn't exactly commonplace. And if another shinigami was here…

Before I could devise a clever reply about B's sanity, he continued. "In all my years, I have only once seen this. Are you a god?"

Several things in that statement threatened to send me into a fit of hysterical laughter myself. _Years?_ _Did he say that he'd been saddled with the eyes for years?_ It would explain how he found the victims for the Wara Ningyo Murders… but there had been no signs of a Death Note in the world until I had come into possession of one. Of course, I hadn't exactly been subtle, but…

No, Beyond's murders, however, were clearly done by his own hand. Then again, perhaps he had no desire to use the Death Note to do the work for him. As far as my status as an owner went, my fate may rest in just how much information his shinigami had given to him. Perhaps he didn't know that you couldn't see the lifespan of another owner.

I had to test the waters- see just how much he knew. Perhaps Kira could still do something for me after all. _A God!_ I couldn't deny that I was elated at the prospect.

Straightening my posture in a subconscious move to fill Kira's shoes, I asked him, "So you're telling me that you can see the lifespan of everyone?"

B briefly glanced back to Watari. "Everyone until you, it would seem." He began to open and close the knife in rapid succession. Each click of a finished cycle bounced off the barren walls and into my eardrums.

I held my ground. He may be close enough to see my name, but I didn't want to increase the risk by giving him less of a distance to cross. "What if I told you that I was a God?"

"I'm not sure that I believe in Gods, Light Yagami." I could tell by his voice that he was smiling at me.

 _So he wants to play this the hard way_ … "Well I'm sure that if there were Gods, they would judge you regardless of your beliefs."

"And I'm _sure_ that they will judge me justly. I have taken some work off their hands after all." Pausing for a moment, he stared at me- or perhaps through me. "You don't seem very bothered by the fact that I have killed people. Nor that I can see when others are going to die. You just take my word for it," he observed. "That is not the face of one who humors me."

"We've all seen some things in this life that we can't explain. Is it so odd that I may believe you?"

B seemed to consider this for a moment. "Maybe you and I are the same. I can't see my lifespan either," he revealed.

This got my attention. If he didn't know why he couldn't see his own lifespan, it was likely that his shinigami didn't explain much at all to him.

Slowly, he shuffled toward me again. Knowing that it was important for me to preserve my image, I couldn't retreat or tell him to stop. I couldn't let him know that he intimidated me.

 _I_ was the one in control.

In the blink of an eye he was three meters away. It was for another reason entirely now that I wished he'd have stayed put. His face was mottled with a collection of red, pink, and purple scar tissue. One side of his jaw appeared to be cracked, the skin and muscle tissue flaking off in much the same way as the walls that surrounded us. Beyond scratched at his scalp with the tip of the knife and I saw, to my disgust, that there were some places that his hair hadn't grown back. Where he did manage it, the locks were uneven. Long like L's in some places only to drastically shorten without any hint of continuity.

Perhaps he had once looked like L. Now, underneath the scars, all hints of similarity were hidden. Now, his skin was too stretched and discolored to lend any resemblance. Only distance and bad eyesight could take one for a fool.

My last observation, I assumed must have been a flaw in my vision, but I could have sworn that his eyes were some dark shade of red.

Behind me, Ryuk was making small sounds of amusement, but was otherwise quiet. That he wasn't making any attempts to interact with the other shinigami could mean a few things. First, B's shinigami may not even be here. Second, perhaps they didn't know or like each other. The third option was not one that I liked; it could be that they were more concerned with the show and less with each other. They could still see our life spans after all, even if B couldn't.

I never liked when Ryuk alluded to knowing more than me. It was frustrating sometimes that he only viewed me as a source of entertainment. Only on rare occasions would he throw me a bone, and only when it was worth his while. By not interfering, he kept things unpredictable, and unpredictable was entertaining—at least to him.

B took my silence as a cue to continue. "It really brings to question the concept of morality doesn't it?" My eyes followed B's as he looked back at Watari.

Watari was still motionless and from this distance I couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

"If one is a God, they must have the _right_ to judge people," B declared. "If you and I are Gods, Light Yagami, then who is to say what I've done to those men is wrong?"

I could see where B was coming from. That statement resonated with me and I definitely believed it. Gods had a right to judge people. The Death Note gave me the ability to judge people. Did that not make me a God, which then gave me the right?

A part of me acknowledged the fallacy that I wanted to fall into. Ability did not necessarily denote right. One could have the ability to drive a car, but without a license, in the eyes of the law they had no right to do so. Laws existed for a reason: to balance and limit one's ability so that it did not infringe upon the _actual_ rights of others.

Having the ability to judge others still embittered me to this realization.

"I'm sure L thinks I'm evil- maybe you do too. As you've brought Kira up once before, I'll use him as an example," B stated. Shifting his weight to one foot he flipped the knife above his head and caught the blade between two fingers. At this, he did not flinch in pain, but switched the knife to his other hand to examine his fingers. Only inches from his face, I assumed he must have sliced one or both of them open. After a moment, he brought the fingers to his mouth and laved at them with his tongue. B then continued as though he hadn't just demonstrated the effectiveness of his knife.

"Kira takes criminals and he kills them. He punishes them for their wrongdoings and makes certain that they will not do it again. Is that not what I have done? Ensuring that the scum who hurt those women and children will not be able to harm anymore?"

B paused, perhaps he had been looking at me for an answer. Knowing my past and propensity to agree with this topic of discussion, I couldn't safely give one.

His easygoing and overall pleasant demeanor changed then, and the timbre of his voice grew heavy. "They _have_ been stopped." He paused again, for a much longer period of time. We both let that statement sink in.

With our eyes locked we stared each other down. On some level, though I agreed with him, I knew I couldn't condone his actions. Acting for L, I knew that I couldn't thereby provide any sort of acceptance for them. Should I, it would mean that he had brought me down with him. Beyond was looking to me for permission. He wanted me to say that his actions were forgivable because he did them for a noble cause.

"They have been stopped," he repeated. "Do you think the victims or their families care how it was done? They were given justice and the _assurance_ that the perpetrator will bring no more harm. It is the assurance that only death can bring for the law makes no such promises."

If you asked me, his logic was perfect. It was my exact train of thought each and every time I picked up the Death Note—yet I knew enough about Beyond Birthday though to know that his cause was not the noble one he was making it out to be. I don't think he expected me to believe him either. It was just enough that the logic existed. He wanted me, as L's heir, to condone his actions, and by extension Kira.

 _Oh, if you only knew, B._

"By not offering this assurance," he continued. "Is that not truly evil? If victims and their families are forced to live with the thought that one day the perpetrator could be free, do they not still suffer? Maybe L is the evil one…"

He gave me an opening to find out more information and I took it. Crossing my arms and fixing him with a glare, I asked him, "So you had to travel to the other side of the world just to rid it of _these_ criminals? You were in a prison surrounded by those who've done worse. Let's just drop the act."

"You're simply no fun," he muttered. "There are so many factors and variables to consider, but you just want things exactly as they happened! Whatever happened to good old speculation? It's the heart of every good detective novel!" he proclaimed.

"I'm not here to write a book about you. In the end, speculation only matters when it turns out to be correct. Tell me why you came back here _now_ of all times."

B huffed. "That much should be obvious, even to you."

When I held my ground and made no move to reply to him, B groaned even louder. He seemed to roll his entire head instead of just his eyes. "Because it was _here_! Everyone knows that L couldn't be bothered with something like this if it weren't occurring in his backyard."

"You came here because you knew that he would be here. Have you just been waiting for an opportunity like this?" I goaded.

Beyond's body portrayed expressions just as well as I imagine his face could. He slumped, looking as though he had grown tired of my provocations. "I was in prison. The only thing I had to do was wait."

I could see where this was going, "And this vigilante case was too good to turn down."

"It was a wonderful cover," he agreed. "When you take into consideration the progression of crime it was not an illogical next step for the vigilante to kill the offenders that got away." Repositioning the blade to rest between his teeth, he used the freedom to crack his knuckles. His shoulders and neck followed. As he took the knife out of his mouth, he shifted his weight to one foot. "And then I saw you, Mr. 'I helped L on the Kira case'. I was expecting Watari, maybe one of L's successors, but not you."

"Sorry to disappoint," I told him none too truthfully.

"Disappoint? Not at all. I couldn't be more pleased with how this turned out," he replied. "Near was almost the one to stand before me, but I must admit, this has more mystique."

"Speaking of," I cut in. "How did you know I would show up and not L. That seems like too big of a risk to take."

B did seem to be disappointed by this. "You must not know L's successors very well then. By taking both Mello and Near I assured that you would need to split up. If you haven't noticed, Matt and Mello are quite fond of each other." B rolled his eyes and by extension his whole head again. "By essentially telling you who would be at each location, I guaranteed that Matt would go to Mello. L wasn't just going to let Matt go without his supervision. That leaves you to retrieve Near," he concluded. B began to close the distance again when he stopped midstride. Pausing, he was still as a statue. He tilted his head to look over his shoulder and back at Watari.

It was a random action, at least by my standards. I'd had him focused on me this entire time and he'd paid Watari only the smallest glances until now.

"He will be here soon," B mused. Turning back to me and finishing his step he appeared to brace himself. "It would seem that our time is coming to an end, Light Yagami. I may not know what your lack of life span means, but that will not stop me from trying to kill you."

I wasn't surprised. I'd stalled him long enough by not giving him the validation he'd sought. At this point he must know that I wasn't going to give it to him. There was only one course of action left for him to take- to slay me and leave my corpse for L to find.

A shock went through my system as I put the pieces together. I realized now that, whenever he had looked at Watari, he must have been watching his lifespan. Somehow from that, B could tell that L would be arriving shortly.

My heart was throbbing painfully in my chest, heating my body uncomfortably. The only way B could know that was if Watari's lifespan was not only counting down, but similar to L's. With this realization, I could feel the heat of sudden rage flow to my every extremity. If their life spans were similar like B was implying, then that meant…

…L's was counting down too.

So many things remained unclear to me. This whole situation was turning into far more of an ordeal than I had originally planned for. Sure, for a brief moment I had considered coming face to face with B, but this thing he had with the shinigami eyes was more than I could have ever accounted for.

Beyond knowing that L would die was not something I wanted to contend with. It was enough that I had to know it would happen eventually by some unforeseeable circumstance. Despite my knowledge of life spans, I wanted to pretend that the exact date of his death wasn't set in stone.

 _It's not technically_ , a voice in the back of my mind reminded me. There were in fact numerous ways to alter one's life span; Misa was evidence of that. All of such methods being clearly drastic didn't make much of a difference to me.

The idea was lodged in my mind now. I was fully capable of extending L's life span. Resolve radiated through my body as I took a step toward him.

B must have noticed something in me change. He straightened his posture and tilted his head as if to deduce what I would do next—and when I took a step towards him, I couldn't imagine that anyone else had ever done so before.

"I have never met anyone quite like you before, Light Yagami," B mused. "I tell you I'm going to kill you, and you come closer without hesitation."

I was close enough now to begin to see Beyond's thoughts as they drifted in and out of his expressions. He was only now aware that he must have been missing some key piece of information. As we stood there, staring each other down, I could tell that his mind was running a mile a minute trying to put the pieces together.

 _Honestly, it can't be that hard to see that I'm perfectly accustomed to death and-_

"Perfectly willing to kill," B muttered. "That's what makes you different. That is why L chose you as his successor. I suppose I know why you wouldn't be bothered by the likes of me." His grin was less contemplative now, spreading wide across his face.

"Do you now?" I mocked. If he really had me figured out, then this could be a lot more fun.

A great wheezing laugh burst from his lips. "You tease the precipice," B cackled. "You've got one foot dangling over the edge of no return." Taking a few more steps forward, he closed the remainder of the distance between us. "Tell me, Light Yagami… How long has it been hanging there?"

My heart threatened to burst through my chest. Typically it would not be to my advantage to be this close to him- not when he'd threatened to kill me and still possessed a knife. I could still turn this in my favor, however. Now he was close enough that I could see him clearly; I would be able to judge him for every micro expression and twitch. That being said, B's face being as marred as it was, I may not get a full range of expression from him.

We stared at each other, neither of us willing to give an inch.

Adrenaline pulsed through my veins like some sort of superpower. When he finally made his move, I was ready for him.

The knife in his left hand slashed up at my face and I almost didn't duck away in time. Grabbing his arm at the elbow, I pulled him further away from me.

Beyond was quick and versatile. Spinning back, he threw out his leg and kicked my arm, throwing me off balance. In a flash, he planted both feet on the ground again and lunged at me.

As his bored down on mine, he positioned one leg to the side of my hip and the other on my abdomen. He braced his full weight on me and swung the blade down again.

I grabbed his wrist and barely managed to redirect the knife. The fabric of my coat frayed and ripped as the blade bit through a section over my shoulder.

Knowing he had fallen short of his mark, B wrenched the knife away and stabbed downward once more. He was relentless, and it exhausted me more to keep blocking his continuous swings than it did for him to execute them.

I couldn't contain the pained noises that escaped my lips every time he lashed out. My arms, though firm with muscle, would be bruised all the way to the bone.

His breath was thick and sickly-sweet against my face as he bared the blade down. Rocking the weight on the knife back and forth, he toyed with me. In one instance he faltered less than I anticipated and lunged back toward me before I could stop him.

The metal burned where it tore through my flesh. Half of the blade stuck out from the right side of my chest. I stopped breathing and could feel shock start to set in. Now that I had been stabbed, I suddenly knew that I no longer had a need to fear the pain.

I tried to disregard this reaction. That kind of thinking would compromise my safety.

 _Don't focus on the pain, don't focus on the pain…_

In only a moment I had repeated this mantra to myself a dozen times. If I allowed myself to be taken by the pain, I wouldn't be able to fight Beyond.

My breathing, though stuttered, was slow. If I didn't hyperventilate I had a good chance of making it out of this.

B, seeing that he had finally hit his mark, jerked the knife from between my ribs and raised it above his head. And then…

It was like a miracle. If Ryuk hadn't been cackling so loud, I may have heard angels singing.

Desperation had put me into the frame of mind to take advantage of any opening I saw. When Beyond raised his hand and his back straightened to put more power into his next blow, he had to change his center of gravity.

My chest screamed with the deep breath I forced into my lungs. Thrusting my hips into Beyond, I bucked him over my body and into the crumbling floor.

Clawing at a crack in the ground, I rolled myself onto my stomach. The urge to cough overwhelmed me and the force from which it overtook my body left me dizzy. Static clouded my vision and for a moment it felt like I had left my body. When my sight returned, the blood-spattered concrete greeted me. My vision was tunneling. Though I looked from side to side trying to find some way out of this mess, I could only see what was in front of me.

Some twenty feet away, Watari was still lying prone on the ground. He wouldn't be any help to me. My body heated from elation and fought against the encroaching cold. Something was lying underneath Watari- something that was going to become my salvation.

I was delirious with relief as I became fixated on getting to his rifle. Digging my nails into the flaking concrete, I dragged myself the first foot of many across the floor.

My chest was so tight that I couldn't tell whether or not I was breathing, but that didn't matter; I was consumed by the notion of getting the gun.

Sharp pain to the back of my right thigh halted my progress and flooded my conscious. It seemed that the pain in my chest did not exempt me from further agony. Humility was wrenched from my body in a tortured scream.

 _He really means to kill me._

I didn't have to look back to know that I would find Beyond death gripping my leg with one hand and stabbing me with the other.

The stress of the situation was giving me tunnel vision and for the first time this morning, I was losing my cool. I tried in vain to haul myself closer to the rifle, but B held me firmly in place.

Jerking the knife from my leg he let out a dark chuckle. "This is too easy. It's all sad really…"

In some deep, primal part of my brain this enraged me. How dare he not consider me a threat! That same part of me recognized that if I couldn't disengage from him, I would need to fight. Twisting around, I pulled back my left leg let it fly with all of the force in my body. I didn't stop at one kick; I lashed out at every point on his body I could reach.

The first blow hit him square in the face, knocking his head to one side. I focused my efforts on his arm and elbow, hoping that I would force him to loosen his grip, but Beyond was clamped down tight. In fact, my assault only made him latch on harder.

I ground my teeth together in frustration. My efforts were only making me tired and B seemed almost entirely unaffected.

In the background Ryuk was yelling at me to get back in the game.

When my eyes sought him out in the corner of the room I noticed just how exhausted I was. Ryuk was just some ambiguous shape hanging from the corner of the room like big spider.

B took advantage of my moment of distraction to haul me back closer to himself.

When I looked at him once more I found that I couldn't focus. Despite our closeness, he was some menacing, faceless being hovering over me. I tried to kick him again, but to my ever rising frustration I could barely get my leg off the ground.

Beyond crawled over me and laughed a chilling cackle right in my face. "At least you tried to put up a fight," he gasped.

A whirring sound enveloped the room and I feared for a moment that I was fainting. The sting in my chest was excruciating, running me through farther than the actual blade had. I could only speculate that my lung was being torn apart.

B looked up to the sky with awe as if he were hearing the noise too. "Perfect timing," he declared. "You won't have to wait long now."

He rolled off of me and barely spared a glace as he stabbed me for a third time in the calf.

My arms collapsed underneath me and the back of my head cracked against the concrete. I turned my head in the direction I'd last seen B; I couldn't let him out of my sight.

I saw him walk back toward Watari with short, unhurried steps. "I know that together you'll no doubt find some way to outsmart me," B called. At Watari's side, he knelt down. "I can't give you that chance."

It wasn't until I saw him pull the rifle from underneath Watari that I knew what he meant.

"No!" I screamed. A fresh surge of adrenaline rushed through my veins. Rolling back onto my stomach, I tried to drag myself over to B. A broken sob escaped my lips when the fresh hole in my leg brushed against the floor.

The pain from my leg left me gasping which only exacerbated the tightness in my chest. I threw out an arm in front of me, but try as I might I couldn't pull myself any farther.

"Noooooooo….." Beyond mocked. "You sound like every other person in history who has ever been victimized. Rest assured though, I'm not going to kill L with this."

I watched as he walked off to the side of the room, out of sight from the entryway. His attention was wholly on the gun now as he acquainted himself with it. It would seem that he was done with me for the time being. "You know, Light, I don't really like guns. It's not personal enough. I couldn't bear to end L with this. It's a good thing I only need to incapacitate him," he mused, more for himself than my benefit.

If it wasn't enough that he wanted L to watch me and Watari die, he wanted _me_ to watch L be shot. My mind was racing, considering all of the places that B would aim for. Was he telling the truth that he only wanted to maim L? Or would he just hit him in a place that would be slow for him to bleed out? No matter his intention, I figured he would want to cause as much pain as possible.

From my position on the ground, I would be the first thing that L saw when he came through the doorway. He would rush to my aid and B would take the opportunity to shoot him. If L was wounded, none of us would be in any position to fight back.

B was kneeling now, bracing himself to take the shot.

Once more I dug my nails into the flaking concrete and tried to drag myself across the floor. It was a futile endeavor and everyone in the room knew it.

Faint chucking was coming from two directions now— from B in front of me and Ryuk behind me.

The whirring in my ears was gone now and I could only theorize that the noise had something to do with L's method of transport. Now that it was gone, L would be actively searching for us.

My heart was beating out of my chest as the seconds ticked by. With each one that passed L was surely another step closer. Something wet dripped down my face and onto the concrete, and I cringed at the prospect of having another head injury.

In the midst of the dust, however, I noticed there were no specks of red.

"Ryuk," I muttered. Then a little bit louder, "I'll make the deal."

If I hadn't known there was only one way to kill a shinigami, I would have thought it was possible for them to die of laughter.

These were the longest moments of my life and he was not making them any shorter by drawing out the inevitable. "What are you waiting for?" I snarled.

Our one-sided conversation had not gone unnoticed by B; my impatience had caught his attention. Without taking his eyes off the entrance, he said to me. "All in good time, Light, all in good time."

In the corner of the room, Ryuk had finally pulled himself together enough to float down and join me on the floor. Balancing on the balls of his feet he loomed over me. "This is just too good," he cackled.

"Do it," I hissed at him.

"I just want to know that you fully appreciate the irony of this situation…"

 _Oh, believe me, Ryuk, I do._ Even at the height of my reign I had never considered making the deal that would guarantee L's death. Now here I was, floundering around in the dirt and my own blood making the deal to _save_ his life.

Precious time was ticking away. If L was outside of the room right now I would be too late. "I'm not going to ask again," I ground out through clenched teeth.

With a pacifying gesture he told me, "No worries, kid. You won't have to."

When his hand came to hover over my face, I let my eyes slide closed. In anticipation of what was to come, my hand wandered to the watch on my left wrist. Fingering the crown, I pulled it four times in succession. The hidden compartment in the watch popped open with a telltale _click_.

This was my cue.

It was slightly disconcerting that I didn't feel any different. Somehow I had expected to feel the loss of half of my lifespan. I suppose I just had to trust that Ryuk made the deal. Everything was hinging on my ability to get B's real name.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes.

The air I had been struggling to keep in my lungs escaped with a ragged gasp. I could _see_. Every little detail that had been lost to me for the last seven months was suddenly clearer than day. My vision was pristine, like someone had wiped the fog from my eyes.

Fighting past the aching fire in my chest, I sucked in precious oxygen. My new sight was almost overwhelming. Perhaps I was only under this impression due to my eyes' previous condition, but dare I say my vision was better than it ever had been.

I was so caught up in the scenery, for a moment, I'd forgotten why I could see in the first place. Crashing back down into reality, my eyes scanned the room in search of B.

Awe was quickly replaced by irritation as swatted Ryuk out of my line of sight.

Chuckling with amusement, he hopped out of the way.

With little effort my eyes were drawn to the lone figure crouched in the corner of the room.

Beyond was perfectly still, gun ready and aimed at the entryway. He was like a predator lying in wait for his prey.

My heart thumped painfully with anticipation. I was giddy with the knowledge that this predator was about to become my prey. Most of all though, I was relieved.

I focused my gaze just above B's head where I knew his name should be. Sorting through the hovering mass of red script I read…

 _Beyond Birthday_

Each of my knuckles popped in succession, releasing bits of my rage in every resounding _crack_. Gone were any remorseful thoughts of using the Death Note again. How dare he have the audacity to convince everyone it was a fake name. Who would actually have Beyond Birthday as their real name anyway? Oh, right, _this guy_.

Peeling the slip of paper from my watch, I tried not to think about how terrible this day was turning out. If my efforts were all for naught, it would ruin me.

I brought my thumb to the wound on my chest and dabbed it against the soaked fabric of my coat. There wasn't time for anything fancy. It would take all of my remaining coordination just to write his name.

Panic was running anew once more. I was so close to ending this. Tempted though I was to write his name with haste, I couldn't risk smearing my thumb across my only weapon. With a heavily calculated push of my arm, I brought my nail to linger just above the fragment.

Without regard to the lines I slowly traced out our salvation in blood.

It wasn't until I had his full name scrawled out that I came to notice once more how painful it was to breathe. Now that my fate was out of my hands I could only count the seconds as my heart threatened to break free of my rib cage.

For the first time in my life I found myself praying. To what or whom, I had no idea.

 _Please don't let L walk through that door. Just give me thirty more seconds._

Slipping the paper back into my watch, I fixed my gaze on B. There was nothing left for me to do.

Beyond was still crouched in the same position, the gun aimed at the doorway. He had no idea that his seconds were ticking down.

I finally registered the numbers floating above his head just below his name and I had no explanation for them. Owners weren't supposed to be able to see the life spans of other owners, but clearly his was still there.

A quick glance at my watch told me there were twenty seconds left.

I strained my ears to listen for any sign of L, but the only sounds I could make out were those of the wind and my own heavy breathing.

At ten seconds, a breathy, anxious chuckle started from deep in my chest. With every fiber of my being I wanted this to be over.

B didn't take his eyes off the door, but he responded to me nonetheless. "I didn't think you had a sense of humor," he teased.

Head bowed, my arms started to cave beneath my weight. Though I was becoming weaker by the second, my chuckle persisted. "Goodbye, Beyond Birthday," I uttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

This got his attention. Midway through turning himself in my direction, however, his body seized. Dropping the rifle to the floor, he grasped for his chest. This time he wasn't faking it.

I watched every moment of B's suffering. It wasn't out of pleasure or satisfaction. Irrational though it was, I feared that when his gasping and sputtering stopped he would just get right back up again.

After a minute, he stopped moving entirely. Gone was the sound of his labored breaths. The only noises hanging in the air now were those of the winter winds and the distant crunching of gravel.

Letting my body fall to the ground, I used the last of my strength to roll over onto my back and draw a deep sigh of relief.

A tear rolled down my face. Now, I just wanted to see L and know that he was still alive. I wanted to know that my sacrifice was worth it.

These thoughts left a stinging chill in my chest. However long I'd had to live had just been reduced by half. In the best of scenarios I would have lived into my nineties. Now, were that the case, I would be lucky to see fifty. That was the best scenario now.

Who knews what fate had in store for me? Maybe I was only meant to live to be L's age. Any number of fates was possible. Maybe I was meant to die in a week's time. If that were the case I wouldn't lose sleep over it. A few days didn't mean anything to me. If I was going to live, I wanted to really _live_.

The steady crunching of the cracked tile was growing louder. It took no stretch of the imagination to guess what would happen next. L was going to walk through the door and see three bodies sprawled across the floor. Right after finding out that the two important bodies were still alive, he would undoubtedly be able to guess why one of them wasn't.

There were going to be many consequences to my actions. There was no possible way to hide what I had done. Kira couldn't disappear for six months and then reappear just when I needed help. It wasn't as though B were the first murderer to escape prison, and if Kira let them go, he had to let B go too.

Still flat on my back, I stared as far into the sky as I could. Maybe a million light years away there existed a reality where I had never picked up the notebook. Perhaps in that reality, or another one still, L would never have had to question his trust for me.

I knew, though; I would never be able to kill L. I had just given half my life for him.

When the footsteps sounded close enough to be just out the door I shut my eyes. I would never open them again if that were what it would take for him to trust me.

Truly I was fooling myself. When the crunching came to a sudden halt I opened them just a crack. "L," I breathed. Careful not to look at him above the neck, I examined his condition.

As he hurried over to where I laid on the ground I could see that he was covered in dirt. Now, L was usually disorderly, but here he was just a mess. Smeared all over himself was dust and, with a start I realized, blood. His hands were wrapped in bandages that looked loose enough to almost slide right off.

Standing over me, L panted. "Light-kun." I didn't need to see his face to know how weary the sight of me made him. Maybe I was shaving years off of his lifespan as well. "I have contacted the authorities. Paramedics are on their way. Is Watari alive?"

I nodded, but when he tried to make eye contact with me, I shied away. "You have to know, L," I whispered. "I can't look at you."

L dug into one of his side pockets and pulled out a roll of gauze. He pressed the whole roll to the bleeding wound on my chest. "Why not," he inquired, unable to keep the irked tone out of his voice.

"B's dead," I replied, as if those two simple words offered all the explanation that was necessary.

Diverting his attention to the other side of the room, he no doubt saw B lying there with the rifle still within his reach. L was quiet, still processing the scene. I appreciated these last moments between us before he caught on.

"How did he die, Light-kun? Did Watari arm you as well?" I suppose from this distance he wouldn't be able to observe the lack of injuries B had sustained.

I didn't know what else to say to him other than, "No." A part of me was frustrated that he didn't just go over and see the body for himself. It should have been obvious what had happened.

If L was experiencing denial, he worked past it quickly. He made several blatant attempts to put himself in my line of sight. When I just as blatantly avoided him, there was no room for interpretation. He would know that I somehow gained the ability to kill with only a face.

That this was his test puzzled me. If he truly thought I could kill now with only a face, why would he try to show me his?

Above me, Ryuk had taken back his place in the corner to watch the scene unfold.

Finally L seemed to have come to the correct conclusion. He didn't try to catch my gaze again, seeming to keep his eyes fixed on B's unmoving form.

I looked at his shoulders. His whole stance was still and contemplative. I wanted, more than anything, to know what L was thinking.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. As quiet as those two words were, they seemed to echo off the walls.

With the way his body stiffened in response, I could tell he knew I wasn't talking about B.

L took a deep breath. The resulting sigh was long and drawn out. Taking one hand off of my chest, he gently replaced it with one of my own. "I need you to put pressure on this momentarily."

The room was getting colder and colder. This was partly due to the weather and partly due to the gaping hole in my chest. Now L's attitude could also be added to the list of things chilling the atmosphere.

If he needed me to manage my own injuries it meant he was going elsewhere. Was he planning on checking Watari? Or could he simply not tolerate being in proximity to me any longer?

L's spine popped as he rose back to full height. He looked for a moment in B's direction before slowly shuffling over to his body. Perhaps, despite my heads-up, he was making sure that B was really dead.

Straining my neck, I tried to see just what L was going to do.

For a minute, he only stood over B's prone body and stared.

I wondered what he was thinking about. Did B's death mean he considered this whole ordeal a failure? My heart skipped a beat when I realized I didn't even know if either Mello or Near were alive. Perhaps he regretted sending me here in his stead. There were so many things I didn't know. All I could do was watch L and wait.

I watched as he got to his knees before B. There must have been a whole slew of emotions he was feeling, and it hurt not knowing whether I would ever get the chance to ask him about them.

With a grunt, L hefted B's upper body up off the ground and held it in that position with his knee.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with confusion. Perhaps from this angle I wasn't getting the whole picture. _That must be it; everything looks odd upside-down_ , I told myself.

Even from this angle, with L's back to me, it wasn't hard to identify the gun he pulled from his waistband.

My whole body jumped with surprise and a searing pain stung through my chest. Suddenly I was having a flashback to the time my father had pointed a gun at me in the back seat of that car.

" _I'm going to kill you here and then kill myself."_

Though it must have sounded funny to say, I truly didn't plan on dying after I'd given up half of my remaining lifespan.

My concerns appeared to be unwarranted, however; L never pointed the weapon in my direction. Instead he turned it on B.

There was no hesitation from the instant he drew the gun out of his waist band to when he aimed it between B's eyes. It was one fluid motion that ended with the crack of a shot echoing off of the crumbling walls.

Blood and brain matter splattered the floor behind B's head and L let his body drop back to the ground to rest among the mess.

I ceased straining my neck and tried to understand what L had just done- because there was no mistaking it.

Rising, L stowed the gun away once more. He didn't spare B's remains another glance before crossing the room back to my side.

Kneeling in the dust, he dug in his pocket for another roll of gauze. "You soaked through this one already," he muttered, taking the soiled roll away from my chest and pressing the new one down in its place. "The police shouldn't be too much longer. Help is coming." The words he spoke seemed to be more for his benefit than mine. The emotion in his tone was strangely absent and not in the way he usually spoke with his characteristic deadpan.

"Don't look so worried, Light-kun," he managed with a bit more enthusiasm. "It is possible for even me to undergo trauma."

This whole day must have put him through the wringer. I wanted to stare into his eyes and silently communicate to him that it was over now, that we were going to make it through. After what I'd just done, however, I couldn't take his name from him too.

Instead I just asked, "Why?" _Why are you protecting me?_

Pressing harder on my chest, he moved one hand into a position over my heart. "Light-kun… It's not as if I didn't already know."

* * *

" _There are people who justice cannot save. And there are people who evil can save."_

 _-Naomi Misora to L, The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases_


	11. L is for

_Yoooooooooooo….. So we are finally here- the epilogue. I've gotta tell you, I have never been happier about my writing. This has been one of the most positive experiences I've had and I've never been more sure of keeping the pace. I want to thank all of you for reading and reviewing. I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it.  
Though this is the epilogue and the story is henceforth complete, I do have two alternate endings I will be adding soon. Neither will be canon within the story; they are just endings I briefly considered. Each are vastly different in tone from the actual ending and each other. I hope you'll stick around for them.  
Many thanks to **Vicious Ventriloquist** for editing this conclusion!  
Please review! _

* * *

If anyone else noticed how I no longer made eye contact with them while speaking, they didn't mention it.

They did, however, tease me mercilessly when I jumped every time someone walked into the room. I let them, because it was better than the alternative.

They wouldn't know why I was so on edge, how most of my energy went into deducing the precise location of those around me. I made every effort not to see their names.

The temptation of using my new power left me teetering perpetually on the edge of a precipice. It would be easier to wear a blindfold- I could adapt to darkness once more. However, then everyone would definitely know that something was amiss.

With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair and allowed my spine to pop. The stitches in my chest pulled and I stifled a groan. Though I was alone in the infirmary, I was still loathe to show any sign of weakness. _Some things never change…_

My gaze focused back to the scene out the window in front of me. Nothing much was happening outside, but I was grateful for it. A year ago I'd liked my solitude, but now I had learned to appreciate it.

Without anyone meandering about, I was free to get lost in my own thoughts.

However, for the first time in a good, long while, I found my mind to be blank.

Breaking out of my reverie, I noticed the soft padding of approaching footsteps. The tell-tale shuffling of jeans against the floor gave away idler's identity.

Knowing my gaze would stop just adjacent to him, I didn't bother to look away from the window.

L dragged a chair from the corner of the room and set it next to mine. Hopping up on the seat, he assumed his signature crouch and fixed his gaze firmly upon me. We sat in silence for a moment before he succumbed to his urge to speak.

"You've barely left the infirmary in four days," he told me in a low, quiet voice.

"That's true," I responded simply.

"Even Mello doesn't spend more time in here than he has to."

I smirked. "Did you expect him to?" Though it was never fair to rank experiences, his, perhaps, was subjectively more traumatic than mine. At least I wouldn't see my scars every time I looked in the mirror.

In the back of my mind a sinister voice whispered, _But now you'll forever see the nametag hanging over your head._

The intrusive thought wound its way through my psyche and I was reminded once more of the choice I had made only a few days earlier. There was always the option to give up the notebook, but I couldn't stomach the thought of what an utter waste it would be. I had given up half my lifespan for this power; I sure as hell was going to keep it.

This only added to the frustration I felt. There were no perfect options.

"I suppose not," L conceded. He let those words hang in the air, waiting for me to continue the conversation, but there was little I could bring myself to say.

Silence fell around us, and after a minute he must have realized I had nothing to contribute. "I have never been the one to try and keep a conversation going," he mused. "Usually it is I who has nothing to say." His voice was soft and thoughtful, as though he was appreciating our role reversal.

"Just this once, I will freely tell you something about myself."

Head tilting in his direction, I didn't pretend to be uninterested in our one-sided conversation now. Getting anything personal from him was like pulling teeth, it was why we had our little game. It was an opportunity for the both of us to be honest with each other under the guise of coercion.

The more cynical part of me wondered how strangely relevant yet philosophical this story was going to be.

With his head aimed absently toward the ceiling, he seemed to contemplate how best to say it. After a moment more of silence he turned back toward me, hoping to finally catch my eye.

"L Lawliet."

My brow furrowed in confusion; I was unfamiliar with the term. "What language is that?"

"It is English, Light-kun," he replied, all too amused. "That is my name."

My heart skipped a beat. This was the last thing I would have ever expected.

Eyes wide, my head whipped in his direction; I was careful not to look higher than his collarbone.

"My eyes are up here, Light-kun. As is some way to tell my name, I expect." His tone was almost teasing.

I glanced higher now, but only up to his mouth. "Why would you tell me this?"

"I know why you haven't looked at my face since B died. I know why no criminals have died since shortly after you were blinded." He paused to let these observations sink in. Of course, I had already contemplated them a dozen times over.

"I told you my name so you wouldn't have to take it."

I could have sworn that my brain was short circuiting, but somehow I felt better now. My gaze drifted up to his eyes; it felt like more than the four days it had been since I'd seen him.

Along with the features of his face I had grown used to, there was indeed a new addition.

 _L Lawliet_

I had thought that seeing his name would bring back the age old urge to murder him. I had thought that finally having this bit of information would overwhelm me, would possibly even turn me back into Kira. As I looked at him now, though, I knew that some of the last traces of my previous life were being washed away. I would never be free of Kira completely, but what I was left with I could live with.

The small smile on L's face morphed into a different look now. "I wasn't going to be beat to the punch line this time," he said, stoically.

My brows furrowed. "What punch line?"

"It has been a consistent theme in our association for me to have information about myself revealed before I consent to it."

I nodded sympathetically, recalling the conversation we'd had the previous week. It had hurt me then, but now I could see his point. There must have always been this little voice in the back of his head wondering whether he could trust me. Even after criminals stopped dying, he must have considered the possibility that it was only a ruse. L had to keep these kids safe; of course he wouldn't tell me about Wammy's. As compliant as I had been in the last months, I wouldn't have trusted me either.

Exhibiting a rare, genuine smile, my hand ghosted over his.

He returned my display with a tiny smile of his own.

After a quiet moment between us had passed, he took on a serious expression once more. Raising his free hand to his face, L scratched at his lip with his thumb. On a separate note, Watari has informed me that you solved nine cases last week…" He trailed off, leaving some room for interpretation—but I knew that it could only mean one thing.

In all the chaos of the past few days, I had nearly forgotten our competition. My smile morphed into a devilish smirk and I locked my eyes with his. "How many cases did you solve last week, L?"

He pretended to be very interested in something outside the window, but having looked out of it for a good hour beforehand, I knew that he couldn't be looking at anything.

"I solved eight cases," he muttered.

I radiated with glee. It was only occasionally that I was able to solve more cases than L.

In a slightly louder voice he murmured, "And since I know what Watari is going to tell you the next time you cross paths, I am going to beat him to the punch as well."

This was shaping up to be a very good day. "Just want to get it over with? Is it a good one?"

"No doubt _you_ will derive some sick form of pleasure from it," he confirmed.

I didn't bounce in my seat, even if only because Light Yagami doesn't bounce.

L cleared his throat to stall for time, but it didn't serve much of a purpose.

 _Get it over with_ , I silently urged him.

His eyes narrowed as he ground out, "When I was fifteen years old, there was a four month period in which I would only eat vegetables."

Usually Watari would include more details in his regaling, but this time, the details were better left to my imagination.

I made no attempt to hide my amusement from him, and his eyes became increasingly narrower as my chuckling got louder.

After a solid minute of uncharacteristic, belly-aching laughter, my chuckles subsided.

Returning my gaze to his, I could tell he was trying not to be amused by my antics, however, he was putting up a miserable effort.

"Don't look at me like that," I scoffed. Then with a sigh, "I love you, you stupid genius."


	12. Alternate Ending: Kira

_And here we are with the first of two alternate endings I have written. For a brief moment I considered this as an ending and it is fairly different from what I went with. The second one will be uploaded today as well; so stick around. If you know what today is, then you'll also see the logic with the story coming to a close on this day as well.  
A great thank you to my beta, __**Vicious Ventriloquist**_ _, for editing this alternate ending even when it isn't part of the canon story!_

* * *

My heart thumped painfully with anticipation. I was giddy with the knowledge that this predator was about to become my prey.

I focused my gaze just above B's head where I knew his name should be. Sorting through the hovering mass of red script I read…

 _Beyond Birthday_

Each of my knuckles popped in succession, releasing bits of my rage with every resounding _crack_. Gone were any remorseful thoughts of using the Death Note again. How dare he have the audacity to convince everyone it was a fake name? Who would actually have Beyond Birthday as their real name anyway? Oh, right, _this guy_.

Peeling the slip of paper from my watch, I tried not to think about how terrible this day was turning out to be. If my efforts were all for naught, it would ruin me.

I brought my thumb to the wound on my chest and dabbed it against the soaked fabric of my coat. There wasn't time for anything fancy. It would take all of my remaining coordination just to write his name.

With each labored breath I was closer to ending this. Tempted though I was to write his name with haste, I couldn't risk smearing my thumb across my only weapon. With a heavily calculated push of my arm, I brought my nail to linger just above the fragment.

Without regard to the lines, I slowly traced out my salvation in blood.

It was thrilling. Despite the deal I had made to obtain these eyes, I could feel my life being returned to my own hands. Doors were opening to me and possibilities were being born. This was more than killing some random criminal. For the first time in a long while, I was truly excited to live.

Seeing his full name scrawled out on the tiny slip of Death Note numbed the pain radiating through my lungs. Now that my fate was out of my hands I could only count the seconds as my heart threatened to break free of my rib cage.

If L could refrain from walking through that door for just a minute more, everything would fall so neatly into place.

Slipping the paper back into my watch, I fixed my gaze on B. There was nothing left for me to do.

Beyond was still crouched in the same position, the gun aimed at the doorway. He had no idea that his seconds were ticking down.

I finally registered the numbers floating above his head just below his name and I had no explanation for them. Owners weren't supposed to be able to see the life spans of other owners, but clearly his was still there.

A quick glance at my watch told me there were thirty seconds left.

I strained my ears to listen for any sign of L, but the only sounds I could make out were those of the wind and my own heavy breathing.

At twenty seconds, a breathy, anxious chuckle started from deep in my chest.

B didn't take his eyes off the door, but he responded to me nonetheless. "I didn't think you had a sense of humor," he teased.

Head bowed, my arms started to cave beneath my weight. Though I was becoming weaker by the second, my chuckle persisted. "You only have fifteen seconds left to live. Nothing could be funnier."

This got his attention. Turning toward me, he mused, "What makes you say that?"

"Because I am Kira," I rasped, just loud enough for him to hear. "Goodbye, Beyond Birthday."

B made like he was going to rise and confront me, but was stopped when his body seized. Dropping the rifle to the floor, he grasped for his chest. This time he wasn't faking it.

I watched every moment of B's suffering. I couldn't deny that I derived some pleasure from it.

After a minute, he stopped moving entirely. Gone was the sound of his labored breaths. The only noises hanging in the air now were those of the winter winds and the distant crunching of gravel.

Letting my body collapse to the ground, I used the last of my strength to roll over onto my back and draw a deep sigh of satisfaction.

My mind was quiet; this last half hour had resulted in a peace I had since become unfamiliar with.

Thinking on it now, it didn't have to matter how much longer I had left to over quantity, I suppose.

Who knew what fate had in store for me? Maybe I was only meant to live to be L's age anyway. Any number of fates was possible. Maybe I was meant to die in a week's time. If that were the case I wouldn't lose sleep over it. A few days didn't mean anything to me. If I was going to live, I was going to really _live_.

The steady crunching of the cracked tile was growing louder. It took no stretch of the imagination to guess what would happen next. L was going to walk through the door and see three bodies sprawled across the floor. Right after finding out that the two important bodies were still alive, he would undoubtedly be able to guess why one of them wasn't.

There were going to be many consequences to my actions. There was no possible way to hide what I had done. Perhaps though… I could just see how this would play out. _It's not as if he doesn't already know_ , I reminded myself.

Still flat on my back, I stared as far into the sky as I could. Maybe a million light years away there existed a reality where I had never picked up the notebook.

 _What a boring reality that would have been._

When the footsteps sounded close enough to be just out the door I shut my eyes. Thrill welled up inside of me. In all the excitement with B, I hadn't prepared for the moment I would finally have L's name. In all the time we had been at each other, I never prepared for it; it was always like some distant dream.

When the crunching came to a sudden halt I allowed myself to open them just a crack. "L," I breathed. Not sure if I could contain myself at the moment, I was careful not to look at him above the neck.

As he hurried over to where I laid on the ground I could see that he was covered in dirt. Now, L was usually disorderly, but here he was just a mess. Smeared all over himself was dust and, with a start I realized, blood. His hands were wrapped in bandages that looked loose enough to almost slide right off.

Standing over me, L panted. "Light-kun." I didn't need to see his face to know how weary the sight of me made him. Maybe I was shaving years off of his lifespan as well. "I have contacted the authorities. Paramedics are on their way. Is Watari alive?"

I nodded. He sounded so desperate and worried that when he tried to make eye contact with me, I shied away. The situation was nearly overwhelming. Who would have thought that I could make him panic?

L dug into one of his side pockets and pulled out a roll of gauze. He pressed the whole roll to the bleeding wound on my chest.

"B's dead," I muttered; I did have the decency to look guilty.

Diverting his attention to the other side of the room, he no doubt saw B lying there with the rifle still within his reach. L was quiet, still processing the scene. I appreciated these last moments between us before he caught on and set the next series of events in motion.

"How did he die, Light-kun? Did Watari arm you as well?" I suppose from this distance he wouldn't be able to observe the lack of injuries B had sustained.

"No." A part of me was frustrated that he didn't just go over and see the body for himself. It should have been obvious what had happened.

I could only wait for him to determine that I had gained the ability to kill with only a face.

Above me, Ryuk had taken back his place in the corner to watch the scene unfold.

I looked at his shoulders. His whole stance was still and contemplative. I wanted, more than anything, to know what L was thinking.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. As quiet as those two words were, they seemed to echo off the walls.

I wondered if he thought I was talking about B.

L took a deep breath. The resulting sigh was long and drawn out. Taking one hand off of my chest, he gently replaced it with one of my own. "I need you to put pressure on this momentarily."

Now that I had calmed down some, the room was getting colder and colder. This was partly due to the weather and partly due to the gaping hole in my chest.

If he needed me to manage my own injuries it meant he was going elsewhere. Was he _finally_ going to assess B's condition?

L's spine popped as he rose back to full height. He looked for a moment in B's direction before slowly shuffling over to his body. Perhaps, despite my heads-up, he didn't really believe that B was dead.

Straining my neck, I tried to see just what L was going to do.

For a minute, he only stood over B's prone body and stared.

I watched him and waited.

I watched as he got to his knees before B. With a grunt, L hefted B's upper body up off the ground and held it in that position with his knee.

Now, I was more than a little confused. Perhaps from this angle I wasn't getting the whole picture. That must be it; everything looks odd upside-down, I told myself.

Though, even from this angle, with L's back to me, it wasn't hard to identify the gun he pulled from his waistband.

My whole body jumped with surprise and a searing pain stung through my chest. Suddenly I was having a flashback to the time my father had pointed a gun at me in the back seat of that car.

" _I'm going to kill you here and then kill myself."_

Though it must have sounded funny to say, I truly didn't plan on dying after I'd given up half of my remaining lifespan.

My concerns appeared to be unwarranted, however; L never pointed the weapon in my direction. Instead he turned it on B.

There was no hesitation from the instant he drew the gun out of his waist band to when he aimed it between B's eyes. It was one fluid motion that ended with the crack of a shot echoing off of the crumbling walls.

Blood and brain matter splattered the floor behind B's head and L let his body drop back to the ground to rest among the mess.

I ceased straining my neck to process what L had just done- because there was no mistaking it.

Rising, L stowed the gun away once more. He didn't spare B's remains another glance before crossing the room back to my side.

Kneeling in the dust, he dug in his pocket for another roll of gauze. "You soaked through this one already," he muttered, taking the soiled roll away from my chest and pressing the new one down in its place. "The police shouldn't be too much longer. Help is coming." The words he spoke seemed to be more for his benefit than mine. The emotion in his tone was strangely absent and not in the way he usually spoke with his characteristic deadpan.

"Don't look so worried, Light-kun," he managed with a bit more enthusiasm. "It is possible for even me to undergo trauma."

He must have mistaken the look on my face for concern. Rest assured however, I was merely trying not to dissolve into a fit of laughter. In another minute, perhaps I would have enough of a hold on myself to look at his face.

Staring up at the sky, I wondered if the ceiling had shown years of wear and tear before it was burned to oblivion.

This was all going so smoothly. It was all so easy. Gaze fixed upward, I asked him, "Why?" Though I knew the answer, I wanted to hear him say it.

Pressing harder on my chest, he moved one hand into a position over my heart. I couldn't help but think how cheesy it was.

"Light-kun," he whispered. "It's not as if I didn't already know."

A tender smile broke across my lips as my eyes met his, and it was like I was seeing him for the first time.

 _L Lawliet._

My smile turned to a smirk.


	13. Alternate Ending: Rule LVIII

_Welcome to the conclusion of_ Familiar _. This is the second alternate ending that I had decided against when writing_ The Devil's Agents _. I hope it serves to deliver on the feels.  
I want to give all of you readers a big thanks for sticking around till the end. It thrills me to know that some of you loved it enough to review! I also want to thank my fantastic beta, __**Vicious Ventriloquist**_ _, who has been working magic on this story since chapter 4.  
If you guys like my writing and want to see more, I have a series of one-shots available titled That Kind of a Year. The plan is to post every Sunday for the remainder of 2017. If there is a particular prompt you want me to write, just leave it in the comments of that story; I am open for requests. Any and all characters are welcome.  
Without further adieu, here is the final installment of _Familiar _. Please leave a review and tell me what you thought!_

* * *

L took a deep breath. The resulting sigh was long and drawn out. Taking the gauze away from my chest, he observed the wound.

The room was getting colder and colder. Though I could partly attribute it to the weather, I knew the true cause had to be due to the gaping hole in my chest. Now, given L's cautious actions to my person, his attitude could also be added to the list of things chilling the atmosphere.

Fingering the top button on my coat, he began undo them and peel away the sticky fabric.

My heart sped up. Isn't one supposed to keep clothes on to stem the bleeding?

"This actually doesn't look that bad," L muttered.

I gasped in surprise. _'Doesn't look that bad'?_ "He stabbed me!"

Shaking his head, L prodded at the wound. "It probably just felt like he did. The slash wound is a bit more than superficial."

I slapped his hand away. "His knife was sticking out of my chest," I argued.

"So maybe he stabbed you a little bit," L conceded. "Your coat is rather thick, though. It likely just caught in the material."

"I couldn't breathe." In the heat of the moment I found myself defending, and even insisting upon the more grievous injury. The rational part of my mind told me I shouldn't look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

"You show all the signs of someone coming down from a panic attack," he offered dismissively. "Light-kun, this is good news," he said, taking in my expression.

 _I wasn't dying; we weren't in any rush…_

Sucking in deep gulps of air, I nodded, almost absent to the action.

"Will you be alright if I leave you momentarily," L asked.

I continued to nod.

L's spine popped as he rose back to full height. He looked for a moment in B's direction before slowly shuffling over to his body. Perhaps, despite my heads-up, he was making sure that B was really dead.

Straining my neck, I tried to see just what L was going to do.

For a minute, he only stood over B's prone body and stared.

I wondered what he was thinking about. Did B's death mean he considered this whole ordeal a failure? My heart skipped a beat when I realized I didn't even know if either Mello or Near were alive. Perhaps he regretted sending me here in his stead. There were so many things I didn't know. All I could do was watch L and wait.

I hoped I hadn't failed him.

When he turned in my direction once more, I was careful not to look at him directly.

"Light-kun, it is not my wish to disturb you," L stated. "but I could use your assistance if you are feeling up to it."

I couldn't deny the urge to put these events behind me. If L wanted my help, I was sure going to give it to him.

Raising my hand to him, I said, "Help me, help you."

Shuffling back to my side, he kneeled. With one arm behind my back he grabbed my offered hand. Gentle could never be gentle enough; I had just been stabbed _a little bit_.

A pained chuckle hissed through my teeth as he helped me to a sitting position. "You sure I'm not mortally wounded?"

"I would not ask for your help if I thought you incapable of giving it," he assured me.

Holding me tight, we rose and started a steady trek to where B's corpse lied.

"Just tell me what you need me to do."

Gingerly, he set me down next to B's body and positioned himself on its other side opposite myself.

"I am going to shoot him," L said, getting straight to the point. "I need you to hold him up so that when the bullet exits his body, the spray is in a pattern that suggests he was alive."

Looking at him, I felt a surge of adoration. _He was really doing this for me._

Unable to find the right words to say, I smiled and nodded. God help me if my lip quivered just the smallest bit. L would understand.

I watched as he rose to his feet before B. There must have been a whole slew of emotions he was feeling. I would be sure to ask him about it later, at a better time. I wanted to hear every detail he'd had to overcome this past day.

With a grunt, I hefted B's upper body up off the ground. I tried to hold him up with just my hands and lean him against my knee. Repulsion was shuddering through my body at the thought of being close to a corpse. I knew what needed to be done, but I was apprehensive about being any closer than I had to be.

My body was too weak to do things my way, however. With muscles still shaking from stress and trauma, I had to prop him against my left shoulder and side.

B's patchwork hair brushed my cheek and I almost retched.

"You sure I can't be the one with the gun," I joked.

"I doubt you've ever even handled a gun, Light-kun. No offense, but it is safer in my hands."

I huffed an exasperated sigh, but didn't argue. "I don't think I could even stand by myself right now." As self-depreciating as it felt, L was going to have to get us both out of here.

"I wanted to thank you, Light-kun," he told me suddenly, a solemn yet guilty look flashed across his features. "I could not have done it. I could not have finished what B and I had. I locked him up and tried to forget."

"I don't blame you," I said truthfully.

Visually, it seemed as though my words had lifted the weight of half the world off his shoulders. As for the other half…

"I'm sorry you did this for me."

"I'm not." My words were more genuine than I had anticipated. Though in hindsight, I realized I hadn't done a single thing here today for me. It was done, all of it, so that L could live.

With one last tender nod, I gave him the go ahead.

He widened his stance in preparation. There was no hesitation from the instant he drew the gun out of his waist band to when he aimed it between B's eyes. It was one fluid motion that ended with the crack of a shot echoing off of the crumbling walls.

My whole body jumped with surprise and a searing pain stung through my chest. Suddenly I was having a flashback to the time my father had pointed a gun at me in the back seat of that car.

" _I'm going to kill you here and then kill myself."_

Though it must have sounded funny to say, I truly didn't plan on dying after I'd given up half of my remaining lifespan.

Blood and brain matter splattered behind B's head, painting the floor and further soaking my jacket. I lost my grip on his corpse and let it slide back to the ground to rest among the mess.

Had he tricked me? I tried to understand what L had just done, because I was at a loss for words.

"Light-kun?" L's tone was quiet and concerned. Did he not know either?

I was frozen, still unable to process.

The gun slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground. He didn't spare B's remains another glance before bolting back to my side.

Kneeling in the dust, he took hold of me and dug in his pocket for another roll of gauze. "B soaked through your jacket," he muttered, pressing fresh gauze to my soiled coat. "The police shouldn't be too much longer. Help is coming." The words he spoke seemed to be more for his benefit than mine. The emotion in his tone was plain; he was edging on panic.

I stared him in the face now. Was he an angel, or a demon? I couldn't focus on the spot just above his head. As if that would have the answer anyway…

My chest hurt. Coughing, I felt a wet substance leak down my chin.

I wish he would tell me that everything is going to be ok.

What was with this strange need to be comforted even in the worst and most hopeless of times? Where was all of that realism I so dearly embraced?

Red flecks adorned the face I stared so intently at. Though it felt like I was drifting further and further away from him, he only seemed to move closer. Two planes of existence seemed to grapple over the metaphysical state of my being.

There was a vague, fleeting sense of L pressing harder on my chest. He moved one hand into a position over my heart, pushing as though he meant to break through my ribs and cradle the organ. "Light-kun… Don't go."

Ryuk sat, still as a statue, in the corner he had been occupying for some time now. Observing these events unfold, he lamented on the fact that he was not the one to bring this entity's life to a close.

He wasn't laughing, but may it not be said that he was not amused.

A cold, quiet calm descended upon that room with no roof.

Wings pulled themselves from beyond a veil and Ryuk took to the sky.

 _A fitting end for a shinigami._


End file.
